What I saw when I headed down the hall to bed the other night:



She doesn't fit in the closet anymore!  I carried her back to bed, and she didn't even wake up.  When I asked her the next day why she was sleeping in the hallway, she said that the book she was reading  (Nory Ryan's Song, by Patricia Reilly Giff) was so sad that she couldn't be in the same room as it.

That's my girl.  Total immersion in book-world.  I did mention, though, that next time she might want to put the book in the hallway so she could sleep in the bed and not on the floor...

So.

I am getting divorced.  I signed and filed the papers, Shaun has been served, it is underway.  This is not something I wanted.  I've spent more than two years first denying what was happening and then grieving over my failed marriage and my inability to fix it.  This winter, I finally reached the point where I was ready to end it.  I can't fix Shaun, I can't fix us, I can only fix me.  I think I've finally come to some sort of peace with the situation, although if I dwell on it, it still tears me up inside.  My head and my heart are in an uneasy and uncomfortable truce.

Most people in my life are supportive.  To the very specific set of frustrating, intrusive people who aren't helping, with their "helpful" comments and gossipy concern and questions, I address the following answers:

1)  Yes, it's taken me a long time to get to this point; however, don't tell me that I really ought to have done this two years ago.  I wasn't ready.  End of discussion.

2)  Yes, I'm still wearing my wedding ring. I take it off sometimes when it feels like it's burning my finger like a spoken lie burns in your throat, but taking it off feels like as much of a lie as leaving it on. I'm still married, for a little while longer.  My wedding ring is a very powerful symbol to me.  When the judge signs the paper and declares that I am no longer married, then I will take off my ring permanently.  My logic doesn't always make sense to me either since the marriage has been functionally dead for a while, but this is my choice, and my choice alone - I'm working through it the best I can.  Please respect that.

3)  I do not want to go out to a bar and have a wild time to make up for everything.  First of all, I don't drink alcohol.  Second of all, I'm an introvert and I don't like crowds or noise.  I didn't like that scene when I was 20, I like it even less at 42.  I'm boring, I get that.  But you know what? I'm OK with myself the way I am.

4)  And so help me, if one more person asks me if I'm dating anyone yet, or when I'm going to "get back out there", I'm going to have to hurt someone.  Getting over a 20 year relationship takes time, especially when I didn't want it to end, and finding a new man will not magically solve everything.  I'm perfectly fine with being all alone.  I need to be by myself right now and for the foreseeable future.  And actually, the thought of kissing someone makes me nauseated.

There, I said what I've wanted to say for months.  Sorry for the rant, but I feel better having gotten that off my chest.

Emma is working on her cooking badge for Girl Scouts, and this morning she made me breakfast.  SHE made ME breakfast, all by herself!



Fresh hot muffins, fruit, and a mug of mint tea.  Maybe I can get behind this growing-up thing after all!

Over the past two days, I have had soup, 1000mg of Vitamin C daily, and plenty of double-strength mint tea. Plus nine (NINE!) hours of sleep last night.

I do believe that cold I felt coming on was successfully averted.

What I woke up to this morning:



I have the sweetest kid ever.

OK, seriously?  My bank card number is stolen two days before I leave to fly across the country?  Really?

Thanks very much, hackers.

(But a huge thank you to my bank, who caught the fraudulent charges before they posted to my account, canceled that card, and issued me a new card immediately so I wouldn't have to travel without one.  You guys rock.)

Brace yourselves, I have an actual fiber project to show today!



This is one ounce of a qiviut and silk blend that I spun for a friend.  I'm not sure of the ratio of silk to qiviut, but it's just right to let the best features of both fibers shine through - the softness and subtle halo of the qiviut and the shine and strength of silk.  She bought this on a trip to Alaska and I must say it was about the softest thing I've ever felt.

It was gorgeous to spin.



It came as a batt and I spun very, very, very fine singles using long draw.  This was a conscious choice, because even though Delanne didn't want a laceweight yarn, this fiber really wanted and needed to be spun fine.  Thick singles of a short, fine fiber like qiviut won't hold up as well in the finished yarn as multiple fine singles.

My solution was to spin ridiculously fine singles, 3-ply that into a very fine laceweight, then ply the laceweight onto itself to make a 6-ply cabled yarn. The finished yarn is 1 ounce (28 grams), and 75 yards; approximately sport weight.  Very, very soft.  So soft.

Start to finish, this was a wonderful experience. The fiber happily and effortlessly spun into singles, the singles plied together snugly, then they graciously relaxed into a round cabled yarn. 

Today's spatial relationship logic puzzle: Twisty Cat Edition.

I haven't bought a lightbulb in several years and am overwhelmed. All I need is a regular, ordinary, energy-efficient lightbulb. There are approximately 40 bajillion options.

A list:

pick up various clutter from living room floor
    (ask Emma to pick up her room)
vacuum entire house
first load of laundry
remove orphan clean dishes from dishwasher
load dishwasher and run it
    (tell Emma to pick up her room)
dust living room
second load of laundry
empty dishwasher
    (send Emma to her room to pick up)
clean my bathroom
no, CLEAN my bathroom, even the corners and the grout
third load of laundry
clean two aquaria
    (quickmarch Emma back to her room and watch her start picking up)
clean two litterboxes
fourth load of laundry
take out the trash
take out the recycling
    (high-five Emma as I walk past her room and see progress)
clean the stove
no, CLEAN the stove, even the nasty sticky grease in the hood vent screen
fifth load of laundry
declutter the counter by the back door
    (gigantic smooshy hugs for Emma and her clean room)
go out to dinner
 

I feel like I actually accomplished something today.

I don't know if anyone out there in blogland is even still doing this, but it doesn't matter because it's now a personal tradition that I like.  Here's my contribution to the Eighth Annual Blogger's (Silent) Poetry Reading for St. Bridget's Day.



Exhale
by Sue Brady

There’s something to know
that’s bigger than me,
bigger than you…
bigger than the sum of us.

Our equation’s answer
became a negative number,
poisonous,
painful,
numb,
then empty in its calculation.
The stagnant smolder
has burned away even the shell.

The world goes around, and
Three becomes two minus one.
A remnant glowing spark remains…
Bright love
and the future made tangible,
her hand in mine
warms the cold ashes of me.

The world goes around;
I exhale to let go,
Let go to move on.
The world goes around,
The world goes around.
The world goes around and around.