Things That I had forgotten

Weekends are busy for me now.  Weekdays are taken up with clients, and making it from one end to the other without dropping too many balls.  So if I am going to socialize, do personal errands, attend to my own things like arranging my yarn supply and get some easy to manage meals planned and partly cooked it happens on the weekends.
This is a part of normal that I haven't participated in for a long time because of the workpainsleep cycle that is moving into the background instead of taking up the front screen most of the time.
I had forgotten

• that you can do more than one thing in a day
• that some of the looming tasks actually take up very little time preparation wise and can be operating in the background while other things happen.

• that having the stuff set up ahead really can be done as background to the main chore of the day.

I made bread yesterday.  Today I will make a pot roast and spaghetti sauce. Between the two I have enough meals available that I only have to set up some sort of vegetable to eat well.  I had forgotten that the real time amount of time that bread takes is about fifteen minutes spread out over the day.  Mixing the dry rice bread ingredients and setting them in a bag  takes five minutes.  Two hours of preparing ahead makes for fifteen minutes to food all week.
How did I forget this?  I didn't have that much energy or the attention available over the weekend to do it.  If you had seen me sitting reading or staring into space or knitting you would have thought that I was just lazing. What I was doing was sitting in such a haze of exhaustion that I could not think of what I should do to keep things together and make life easier for myself.  Ok. food is in the fridge, dinner and others is available for the week.
I have been away in a far country.  I am back here a bit, and I hope that more of me can show up.

The lovely socks mentioned a few posts back were fussy about what they wanted to be.  After two aborted tries they and I agreed on a relatively simple pattern and we have made it past both the heels.  It can be hard when the yarn has a mind of it's own about what it wants to be.  It's really hard when they let you get a long ways before they let you know it isn't going work.

Aha moment

Life had a look up point on Friday when the trash folks dropped off the new recycle bin.  That sucker is bigger than our trash by about double.  On the top is a list of what does and does not go in. So yesterday I spent a fair amount of time putting all the recycle items that have been hanging about, waiting for the magical day wherein the twinkle fairies will drop their blessings on it, and it can be transported magically to the great God Garbageous in the sky.   The bin holds 65 gallons and is about half full at this point.
Naturally Mr. Footless is remarkably pissed off because he no longer has the control and excuse to keep his heaps and fuss with them.  Among others I emptied a bin that has been sitting on the living room floor for four months because he had an anxiety attack about it being something he had not seen.  My response was "Too Bad."
Mr Footless is considerably less than pleased with me.
Then of course yesterday I caught him red handed in a twisted little piece of ugly called" pick a fight and blame the receiver."  Isn't it funny what people do to keep themselves safe.?

Up date

Two sock (one pair) almost to the pupae stage reduced to larvae once more.  I have one up to the heel.  I like the pattern better. It knits up faster.

umph

What with feeling better I am delightedly rummaging through my bin of sock yarns to decide who gets what  in the way of sockage.  I talked with a friend who reminded me that the enormous bin of yarn is not a liability nor is it a waste.  It is socks in their larval stage.  That settles my conscience about waste, although it doesn't stop me from adding more to the bin.
  I can live with that.  I just sometimes think that it would be nice if my wish for order didn't run directly into my rebellious side.  How do I know that I will want to knit those yarns for that person when I get to the point of it? I don't.  
All the time I spent bagging peoples names with certain sock larvae may well be in vain, because who knows if I will agree to what I thought was good way back when?  At some point All of it will evolve through my needles into warm stuff for feet, the possibility that it is an unlikely color and strange pattern is going to be the luck of the draw.  I knit out of love and not obligation.
I pulled a really wild one out and knitted it up.  It looked rather nice as a skein and better as a ball and then WHEW as the sock itself it was pretty loud.  It was purple and pink and aqua plus green and orange and sparkles.  One of the Guys at the knitting table looked it over and said "Looks like Liberace's bedroom slippers."  well then, that's alright, if a little(!) gaudy. 
Now I am working on a pair in various shades of flame red  absolutely glorious and past the heels.  I don't like the pattern, and like it less as I go. Do I morph it into something else, rip it or continue?  The debate rages mostly in my head.  I think that it will do better with another pattern.  Phoo.  

bZZZZAP!

Yesterday started out badly. I was up by 2:45 and that is AM mind you due to Mr Footless's blood sugar being 911 low (37). I had the following conversation with an EMT
"Ma'am, would you come up here and convince your husband to eat some glucose?"
"No."
Someone grabbed him at that point and I hear the whispered ( hissed) "The reason that we are here is because she can't manage it herself and she would if she could." 
I hate new cert EMTs with a fine and burning passion.
So Mr Footless trundled off to the emergency room, and I went off to work.
Then after work I had a hair cut and did the Friday errands. I got home by four thirty and went upstairs to check in....... and called 911 again Blood sugar (23).
At that point I called a friend and asked myself to dinner.  There is no way of describing my state of mind except to say that it was Not Good.
Today I was doing the normal Saturday chores and heading over to return some sock needles that I can't use when the phone rang with a desperate call from someone I will call Friday's Child. 
She asked me to come over and help with problem unspecified.  I sailed over and spent what had to be the most uncomfortable hour and a half imaginable with five hostile people all trying to make themselves understood and to get their own way at the same time.  I am sure that I was supposed to be there, and I am sure that I did what I was supposed to do, all the same I am clueless as to what that was or what in the name of the creator it was about.
I missed the great television transfer scheduled for the afternoon and Mr. Footless was miffed because I disappeared with the truck when he wanted the helpful guys to carry out and load a bunch of schmutter.  Sorry. I called and he didn't answer his phone.
I feel like I put my finger into the light socket of the universe and my newly shorn hair is standing on end.
Now I am really wondering about tomorrow's Meeting.  

I'm not fussy but......

I wish to hell that I could just get the charts.  I don't need the instructions for the toe, heel and thirty differing ways to set up the gusset.  I just want/need the stitch pattern for the gorgeous lace in that there sock pattern and I want it in the chart form thank you very much.

Spring......

It's warm out.  The yard is a winter mess and the trees need water. 
Where am I on this first day of "I'm going to take it easy week"?  I'm inside thinking about a nap because Mr. Footless had a Chinese fire drill at 6 AM.
Overheard remarks from the fire guys:
 "His glucose is __ She's only off by about two points"
 "Yeah, She totally nails it 98% of the time. I've never seen her off by more than ten points and she is usually within three."
"How does she do it?"
"I dunno.  Hey Cathy! How do you tell the glucose so close?"
"It's all in how he twitches."
"Can you do it with someone else?"
"Don't know, He's the only one that I work with."
It's twenty years and knowing the signals and what to pay attention to.