My allergies are in overdrive, probably because I'm living in a florist's shop right now. I'm sitting here a bit woozy from Benadryl and a bad night's sleep. I'm going to move the many plants I've received to the office when I go back to work next week, because the damn cats are eating them (more like chewing on them and then puking up the pieces) and I have to keep them (the plants, not the cats, though that's probably a better idea) in the back bedrooms. I hope it's the cut flowers that are causing my sneezing and not the dish gardens, they're really gorgeous. My office is small, about 11x12, and it's going to look like a rain forest when I bring all this stuff in there.


I made the first of several Goodwill runs, made a hair appointment for a week from Saturday. I swear it's easier to get an audience with the Pope than with the guy who cuts my hair, but at least it gives me time to decide whether I want to go for it and cut all my hair off again. I let it grow out while my husband was sick, because I couldn't count on going for regular trims - don't believe the propaganda that short hair is low maintenance, it requires regular attention, and my schedule was not my own for a long time. Now my hair is down to the middle of my back, and as I said, when the little old lady in the nursing home kept calling me a "little girl," I realized I probably did look like a blurry 12 year old to her - jeans, sneakers, long hair. I think I'm overdue for a change. I'm not much of a primper, but I intend to pamper myself a bit and do the hair and nails and facials thing regularly now.


I spoke to Social Security and the life insurance carrier to get that process started. Social Security pays a big couple of hundred bucks as a "funeral expense" - which is darkly hilarious to anyone who ever paid for even a very modest funeral and a VA burial. My long-neglected car finally got some attention - and two new tires - yesterday, and I showed the service guys the service notice addressed to my late husband who did not buy, participate in financing, or ever even drive the vehicle, and pointed out that I, not my husband, am their customer, and that this sort of thing really does not create a good impression with female customers. I watched as they changed the computer entry and took my husband's name OFF my vehicle in their service record. The younger service guy apologized nicely and said he had no idea how my husband's name ever got associated with it in the first place. The older guy did not apologize. I think maybe we know how it got associated.


While I waited for the car I finished the second Sitcom Chic sleeve, joined the sleeves to the body and I'm somewhere around the third decrease row. It's moving right along. I'm trying to resist startitis - I want to work on something colorful, this white is making me snowblind. I'm thinking of finally casting on that felted market bag from Knitters Summer '01 - I bought the yarn from Threadbear a while back, then shelved it as not easy enough to work on at the nursing home. Now that the biggest challenge of my life to date is over, I'm ready to deal with just a little more challenge in my knitting.


I really want to drag out the sewing machine and start noodling around with it. I need to redecorate the master bedroom - it was next on the to do list when my husband was diagnosed and all plans went out the window, so it's long overdue. I need to meditate over some paint chips and fabric swatches first.