First, thanks to everyone who’s sent condolence comments–it’s very much appreciated. (And if I missed replying to anyone, I apologize; it was an oversight.) My parents are on their way down to Florida right now–their flight routed through Pittsburgh, for whatever reason–and the memorial service is tomorrow morning.

I had to take the afternoon off from work, too. The new vanities for our bathrooms were being delivered today (between 12:00 and 6:00, you know, just to narrow it down) and since my parents obviously couldn’t be here, I told the folks at the office that they would just have to manage without me for a few hours, even if my boss is out on paternity leave. (What can you do? You can’t plan time off for births or deaths! They happen when they happen.)

Naturally, of course, the delivery truck arrived at 5:50, when I would have been home for an hour and half already, but they did squeak it in before six! And also, of course, 3 minutes after my aunt called, looking for my Dad. (”I’m sorry, but, um, he’s on a plane right now. Can I give you the number of the hotel he’ll be staying at?”) So, unfortunately, my one chance to give her my condolences “in person” (as it were) was cut short. Of course! Still, I’m not objecting to the quiet afternoon to sit and think about my Uncle. I just wish I could somehow be at the service tomorrow–or to listen to it! (But it would be tacky to ask Mom to hold up her cell phone . . . not to mention the long distance charges.)

We had room for the new vanities in the garage–you know, once they were finally delivered–because my Dad, my brother-in-law, and my nephew cleaned out the garage on Saturday. (I’m thinking the physical purging was probably good for him that afternoon, anyway.) Here’s a photo of what was left by Sunday night. To my certain knowledge, various neighbors walked, ran, or drove off with my old bicycle, a badminton net, croquet set, old milk carton, a hula hoop, a nylon “tunnel” . . . and, oh yes, two bowling balls. That was highly entertaining.

The two little boys from the house diagonally across the street from us–about 5 and 4–decided to adopt the bowling balls (and the old, ratty bags–including one with my mother’s maiden name, which should tell you how old they are). Watching these two brothers struggling to carry the bags with 14- and a 18-lb bowling balls was greatly amusing. If we’d known how much sheer entertainment value there was in a pile of garbage, we could have done this years ago. (The second prize for entertainment was the neighbor who jogged by, picked up a fake terracotta planter and ran off with it.)

I’m on the last chart of my Peacock Feathers shawl–although it’s also the longest chart, and doesn’t include the edging. The fun part of the evening’s knitting, though, was when a series of stitches decided to slide off my needle while purling back on the plain rows. I don’t know how I managed that. Sure, every now and again a single stitch, maybe two, slips off the end, but I had about 12 stitches slide away the first time–which took me 20 minutes to recover and be sure I had all the YOs and such in the right place–and 6 stitches the second time. On the same row. Minutes apart from each other. I’m wondering if my guardian angel was involved, though–I was very much caught up in sad-Uncle-Richard thoughts, but having to concentrate hard enough to rescue my shawl helped alleviate some of that.

  The good news? The plying head for my Lendrum arrived on Friday. I haven’t even taken the plastic off yet, but I’m glad that it’s here.

• Tags: Family, General, Knitting/Spinning • Permalink:Mournful Monday //