I have totally sucked at checking in over the past few months. You know how everyone says that your cells change every seven years and it makes your hair change and your skin change and Oh! So Much Change!? After hitting the seven year mark with Fluid Pudding, I almost feel like my motivations are changing.
(I’m not quitting, nor am I having a Jeff Buckley moment. Bear with me.)
Let’s see. The past week was a good one.
I finished Delphine, and then I went outside and got all frowny faced!
And, to that person who never misses an opportunity to say “You have jowls!” or “Getting wide there, Pudding!”, please know that it’s still winter! Also, I’m (perpetually) working on it!
After finishing Delphine, I went all knitting crazy and finished a hat for the shop:
(It’s the March project for our Yarn Over EZ program, which is an entire year devoted to working through Elizabeth Zimmerman’s Knitter’s Almanac. I’m sort of taking charge of the March thing, which makes me feel the need to get my eyebrows done or something.)
Anyway. That’s it for knitting.
We had parent/teacher conferences this week, and as always, I stressed out entirely too much over what to wear and what to say and how to express my disenchanted state with that whole screening thing they did on Harper a few months back, and I ended up not approaching it at all, which is quite a shame, because I really enjoy using the word Disenchanted. (To me, it’s a glittery word. Specifically, blue glitter.) Long story short: The girls are doing Just Fine, and they’re well-respected amongst their peers, and I wore a long-sleeved gray t-shirt with a silky scarf thing plus jeans if you’re wondering, and I really love the girls’ school and their teachers and the fact that there are no Issues other than the fact that Harper will occasionally refuse to eat a vegetable snack. Things are good, and that is great.
The Girl Scout cookies are in. And because of that, I actually worked out today to try to avoid the “My butt looks like two giant Tagalongs” thing. Why do I suddenly feel that it’s okay to eat an entire box of cookies in one sitting? I’ve done this every day for the past three days. First up? Lemon Chalet Cremes. Second? Tagalongs. Today? Samoas. Am I depressed? Is it once again time to hit the Weight Watchers meetings? Am I depressed? Wait. Am I repeating myself?! (I must be depressed. Time to pull out the The Polyphonic Spree albums! Or not.)
Finally, the final paragraph! (I’m that friend you never see but it’s okay because when you DO see her she just rambles on and on about herself and it’s really more exhausting than interesting, isn’t it?) Anyway, onto God. (It seems logical, no?) As you know, we’ve been on a fairly hard core church search for the past few years. About six months ago, we found Our Place. And it’s a slightly different denomination than what I’m accustomed to (I was raised Southern Baptist) with a few different traditions and different ways of thinking and so forth. Anyway, the Lent thing came up, and I’ve never really done the Lent thing before. SO, last week I said, “Okay. I’m going to give up meat to the 100% level, and also give up buying yarn. If I fail on one, I’ll be sure to succeed on the other. Ready, set, go.” This morning, the minister didn’t stress the giving up of Things as much as he stressed the importance of taking Time over the next forty days. Time to reflect and time to enjoy the moment and time for silence and time for preparation and renewal and so forth. So anyway, I left church feeling refreshed that I don’t have to fret over silly things like bacon or not having enough time to knit that baby sweater if I can’t even purchase the yarn until April. Instead, I’m going to take Time! (And I’m going back and forth about trying to write here every day until Easter just to share my Time with you. And I know it sounds like I’m just about to break into some weird Cowboy Junkies-like version of Amazing Grace or Turn, Turn, Turn or something. Bear with me. I’m wearing eyeliner, and my lids might just be sparkling.)
I can’t get enough of the following song. And I’m not sure how that makes me feel. (Full disclosure: I do a really awkward (because there’s really no other way for me) dance every time I hear the song. The dance involves quite a bit of tip-toeing and head nodding. You will never see the dance.)
Six hours have passed since you came to visit, and I’m feeling sort of awkward about being such a time suck. Can I get you a drink or something? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>