Another snowy day

Today was to be the day that Tom’s house finally was to be sold. I had to get up at an ungodly hour and make my way to the ferry terminal and sail across the sound to sign the papers. I awoke about four in the morning to see that it was snowing. Horrors! That would definitely complicate my trip down town. I live on top of a hill, so the least bit of snow intimidates the buses and they refuse to come this way. I had to decide whether to wait for a bus, and potentially miss the ferry if there was no bus, or to walk to the ferry terminal. I went back to sleep undecided. When I woke up, there was enough snow to possibly, but not definitely, deter a bus, and so I decided to walk. Happily, my walk was uneventful. I had agonized about which knitting to take to work on during the trip, as there was some reason not to take each of my current projects. I finally opted for my Knitpicks Andes hat. Just as we were approaching the harbor on the other side, I realized that I had made a fatal knitting error. I didn’t notice until I got all the way to the little alpacas, and then when the last alpaca had too many stitches trailing after him, I saw that I had cast on about five extras. I counted as I cast on, but then didn’t ever count the total. All this was not auspicious. Barry, the real estate agent, met me at the ferry, took m to the title company, and I signed the papers. It was all pretty painless, particularly given all the other pains this estate process has involved. I was thrilled that this bit of it was over. On the way back, I undid the hat. When I got home, I realized I had forgotten my house keys, as Rachael had let me out and locked the door. My aunt, who has a key, didn’t answer her phone, but that didn’t mean much. Fortunately, she was home, and I was able to use her key. I finally came in the door, tired, hungry, and crabby, to hear the phone ringing. There was a wrinkle in the house sale. He explained it all to me, but I didn’t take it in. What it really meant was that I couldn’t take a nap. Aaaaaaaaaak! More papers to be emailed to me, signed and emailed back. So now all seems to be well, but it is not over till it is over, and I get the check. I drank so much tea while waiting for the emails that my nap was a failure. I am going to give it another go now.
PS. As you can see by the picture, it was a glorious day in Bremerton.

A BFF day

I mentioned that Lillian was at Rachael’s birthday party. Rachael and Lillian have been friends forever – nearly since toddlerhood. I remember once when Lillian, three or four at the time, came with her dad to visit. Rachael was sick in bed and couldn’t play, so Lillian went upstairs to say “Hi.” I came upstairs after a bit, and Lillian was sitting in a little chair next to Rachael’s bed in the darkened room, and was quietly reading stories to Rachael. I don’t remember if she was actually even a reader yet, or if she was making them up, but in any case, it was a sweet picture. And Lillian is still a sweet girl. I think the youth of the day prefer to be something other than "Sweet," but what can I say? She is also smart, pretty, polite and all things nice. No snakes, snails, or puppy dog tails. Most of the time, anyway.

A Happy Birthday

I can’t believe that Rachael is twenty. It was only a few months ago that she was a tiny infant – and as you can see, an adorable infant. Her birthday was during Great Music, so we celebrated a few days late. Rebecca cooked a fabulous dinner, and the guests (the Aunties and Lillian) didn’t even notice that it was vegan. Everyone behaved well, somewhat to the disappointment of Rebecca and me. We always enjoy little contretemps as long as we are observers and not personally involved. Then we have fodder for happy reminiscences and gossip later on. One year we speculated at length who would be the one to spill wine on the tablecloth, and decided who it would most be the most likely offender. Then about two minutes into the meal, Rebecca knocked over her wine glass while dishing out the food. We both collapsed into laughter, but dared not tell anyone what was so funny about spilled wine. Are we not evil? I think perhaps yes.
Here Rachael is in her Edward Hopper hat, purchased at the exhibit noted below. She prefers to think of it as her Edna St. Vincent Millay hat. Très chic, n’est-ce pas?

A timely day

Busy, busy, busy! I had a huge (actually not really, but it seemed that way) agenda of things to do today, and all I really wanted to do was sit and knit. I got up, had my morning tea, read the paper, and then made myself some toast. The toast takes four minutes and forty-four seconds to toast nicely. Normally, I go play a hand of Spider Solitaire or read my email while it is cooking. Today, I decided not to waste time on that, but to try to make myself a little window of knitting time, so I started a load of laundry, took out my recycling, and put the liner in the garbage can – an incredibly minor but icky task that I had been putting off for days. I finally had something gooey to put throw away, so I could delay no longer. I was amazed at how much I got done in that tiny bit of time. This is a lesson I have never really learned – Just do the thing and get it over with, rather than fret about it not being done. Fretting is my usual tactic. Then when I finally do the task, I can’t believe that I wasted all that energy worrying about it instead of just doing it. No doubt I never really will really take this to heart. I had been looking at the dustbin for three days, and brooding because there was no liner and I couldn’t throw anything out. What a waste of energy that fretting had been. Sometimes knowing how long things actually take is a very helpful motivator. I usually water my plants on specific days, and it always seems like a big deal when the time comes, so I put it off. I timed myself once while my tea was heating in the microwave, and it took less than two minutes. Once I knew this, it seemed like much less of a job. When I was married, we went camping frequently, and there were always reasons why I, and not my husband, was the one who set up the tent. I was resentful of this, and complained about it. “But you are so good at it, and I’m not,” was his sly reply. “Let’s see how long it actually takes you.” I had imagined that it took at least half an hour, but we set the tent up in the yard, and he timed me. It was less than three minutes! Resentment dissolved. He didn’t like to do it and I didn’t really mind, and who is going to complain about something that only takes only three minutes and happens rather infrequently. Another valuable tactic for the incurable procrastinator –that would be me - with a really big unpleasant task (like cleaning a basement, for example), is to say to myself, “I will work on this for one hour.” That is not too much time even for something as foreboding as a dirty basement. Two things generally happen. You get an amazing amount done in an hour of work, and enthusiasm for the task sometimes develops and you go on beyond the allotted hour. And you feel good about having for once, not procrastinated!
After I finished my whirlwind laundry/dustbin tasks, I discovered that four minutes and forty-four seconds was the exact amount of time it took Maria to gobble up the cheese I had gotten out to put on my toast. What a cat! She truly understands time management and the importance of not delaying when there is something to be done!

An extravagant day

This evening is the final performance of our Cathedral extravaganza! I can’t think of what to say about it, as it is so amazing and wonderful - way beyond words. This is a picture of the finale (from Mendelssohn’s St. Paul) taken by my friend Maria. I am a white speck at the top of the lower left quadrant, and Rachael is a black and red speck on the altar. This will give you an idea of its compass.

An artistic day

My Aunt Pauline and I had a fun outing to the Seattle Art Museum for lunch and an artistic experience. There was a show of Edward Hopper paintings of women, etchings, and some images by photographers who influenced Hopper. The paintings are intimate glimpses of women in an age of flux. The Victorian era and its mores had passed, and women were emerging into public as independent individuals – and judging by Hopper’s vision, as lonely individuals. I took a photo of my aunt looking at one of the pictures, and remarked that her coat matched the clothes in the painting. Minutes later I saw a woman in a red hat admiring a painting of another woman in a red hat, and I was about to snap that, when the guard came up and said, “Sorry, no photography.” I was disappointed, and so was the woman in the red hat – the human woman, not the oil painting woman who didn’t seem to care. Then we had a yummy lunch in the Museum restaurant, where, given that it was an art museum, even the salt was artistic. Photography did seem to be allowed in the restaurant, so I took a Hopperesque photo of a couple at the bar.

A busy day

Today was rather busy and non-stop. I got up late, drank some tea, and left for a lunch date with my friend Eileen. She was pleased that she had just gotten an article published and brought me a copy. It was about safe patient handling – a topic not innately interesting to most, but quite the current topic just now. The “safe” is safe for the nurse as well as the patient. Nurses are right up there with loggers and firemen in the on-the-job injury lists. And back injuries are all too common. Then I was off to endure another dreadful encounter with the personnel at the bank where I have Tom’s estate account. They wanted to charge me $5 to print up a statement. I pointed out that they would not let me access the account by computer, and had never sent me a statement, so how was I supposed to keep track of it. I can’t believe they are still in business. Actually, I guess they aren’t since they just went under and were taken over by another bank. At the bus stop I met this young man who’s name, he told me, is Tobias. Initially I thought Tobias was the cat, as Tobias seems like a good cat name. When I arrived home, Harry the terrier and his mom were playing fetch in the park near my house. Harry had elected to bring his green dinosaur to play with today. Margaret came out to say “Hi” to Harry, but she was far more interested in the dog treats that Harry’s mom had in her bag than in playing fetch with a dinosaur. So I threw the dinosaur for Harry while Margaret cajoled Harry’s mom for one treat after another. Margaret is hard to resist, so she had about a dinner’s worth of dog biscuits. Then off to the Family Kitchen and then the dress rehearsal for Great Music for Great Cathedrals. A fun and interesting day for me, but not a very interesting story for you, I am afraid. But cute pictures at any rate.