Notes from the End of the Longest January

Sunday

I slept poorly but had already committed to join the weekend work effort at 8 am. It seems that efforts were being duplicated, so I decided to sign off just after noon and make a crockpot chili and a wacky cake instead. The cake turned out well, but the chili wasn’t my best. I’ve still been eating it all week. Such is the frugal life.

Monday

At the team meeting, after some venting and discussion of problems that are ultimately unsolvable, I showed my knitting pattern book for show-and-tell. I really am going to have to get back into knitting seriously. Maybe I’ll pay to take lessons. I think in these times, we need to upskill and to pay our fellow citizens for helping us do so.

Tuesday

I remembered I had checked out an audiobook, Kitchens of the Great Midwest, from the library nearly 3 weeks ago. I started trying to listen to it quickly, but found it too sad for my current state of mind. Maybe another time.

Wednesday

The weather turned warmer and more springlike. I’m gradually starting to think about what to do with the garden my mother-in-law started and then abandoned in my backyard last year. There’s a new rosebush and some canna she brought from her house, but the rest of the plot was overtaken by thistle and mung beans, the former probably from the bird feeders that used to be there, and the latter perhaps from some past iteration of the garden.

Thursday

Woke up to news of the DC plane crash. Just horrifying. And then to have the would-be dictator blaming it on DEI… It feels like the Reichstag fire. He wants to divide us, distract us, while he picks our pockets and consolidates power.

Friday

Wrapped work early and headed out to Arcadia for lunch, followed by Reynolda Village. At the fabric shop, I bought the Magic Pants pattern and kit, and may get around to sewing it up next week. We walked through the dormant garden and sat a while on the bench.

Saturday

Woke up early and did my Duolingo, which came in handy when I met a Russian couple living in the next town over. I wanted to exchange numbers but somehow didn’t have the nerve. Later we walked at the river and saw that the nearby church that we’d thought was abandoned was packed and having a boisterous Saturday service.