Well, not totally rotten, but darned close.
The good news is WE HAVE A PRIEST and she's starting on August 1st. So she's moved into the Vicarage and is getting settled in.
The other news is that we've moved the office space into another building, and that's taken up --- oh, about 6 months of my life so far. But on Tuesday, I spent quite literally 10 hours at the office, finalizing the packing and helping with the movers.
On my way in to the office, I ran into the Jewel and the Big Lots. Well, Big Lots for a large box of K-cups (yeah, I know all the pros and cons, but this one box ought to last 2 years...) and a set of shower curtain rings. Jewel for lunch. I found a sandwich (breakfast) and a small package of sushi. Don't judge me - I was in a hurry, and it was better than junk food.
Or maybe not...
Anyway, we were running like chickens. I ate the sushi about 1-ish, and by the way, the wasabi sucked. I love wasabi. But this was some sort of processed crap. I should never have put it on the sushi in the first place. It was California roll - I'm not all that adventurous (though I suppose buying sushi at the Jewel would be adventure enough).
When our organist came by to supervise the moving of 2 pianos, Hubby started moving over the empty file cabinets, and I was finishing packing up office supplies. Movers came. We worked more. One of the parishioners was staffing the other building and so we had a tag-team going on.
Then, we were all "hangry" -- and ended up at Merichka's, a local old restaurant where we go once a year. I ordered what I always order: a poorboy sandwich with American cheese, a salad and a double-baked potato. I usually eat half of it and bring the rest home, which I did. Came home, relaxed, went to bed.
Till 3 a.m. Tummy was rumbling in that "way" where you know there's going to be trouble, so I staggered up and did what needed to be done. Went back to sleep only to have the same tune being played at 4 a.m. Mind you, I hadn't gotten to sleep till midnight, because my entire body felt like it had been run over by a moving truck!
At 5-ish, Hubby wakes me up, and all I can say to him is, "I want to die." My head was full of snot, my bowels were going nuts, and my stomach was turning. The nose, I think, was moving dust. Can't quite pinpoint what the tummy/bowel thing was.
Did my a.m. routine, but didn't feel even like drinking my tea. I drank about half, hoisted myself to the shower, and got dressed. Brushed my teeth, got ready to leave, then BOLTED back to the bathroom, over Tippi, to get rid of whatever was left in my stomach.
That's not how you want your Wednesday to start. I was a bit sick all morning, but some chicken soup at work, and I feel a bit better. Still dicey tummy, but I think everything will stay where it's supposed to stay...Lord willing.
Over-Knitting Is a Thing...
Tonight, I started to work on the gusset of the Green Sock. I had been avoiding knitting for a few days because with all the packing and such, my hands were killing me.
They still are. I think I over-knitted. As in, not that I knitted for hours straight, but I've been knitting a lot and my hands weren't used to it.
Over-knitting can be remedied easily: stop knitting for a while. And I wear a Tommy Copper hand glove that provides some compression. Sometimes, you have to resort to aspirin or another NSAID, but usually, stopping the knitting works the best.
And of course, that also means, for me, no guitar -- not that I've had time to practice a lot lately.
But I was on a roll with not only the scarf (sausage roll) but the socks, so "not knitting" is a sorry option. If I want to complete my other projects, including perhaps some Christmas knitting, I need to take care of the hand now. Otherwise, it's going to get worse.
But it is what it is, and if I can take care of my hands now, it'll be better in the long run.
Crimes Against Potica...
So when I was in the Jewel (see above), I saw this on the counter. This -- this Sorry if this sounds offensive, and it is: Italians can't do potica. Never could. They do things like fill it with raisins and chocolate. That is not potica. Germans can't do it either. Yellow raisins are not appropriate filling. Nor is "flavored" potica. I used to get into quite a discussion with this woman who insisted that she was making "raspberry" or "blueberry" or "prune" potica.
Hold the phone, lady...You're making danish or strudel. Not potica. It doesn't do fruit flavors.
Of course, there are several different recipes. Each family has their own and they're not famous for sharing. In fact, I won't share mine. You have to "marry in" to get the recipe.
And I don't compete with others' grannies' recipes. My granny gave me my recipe and I respect that your granny may have given you yours.
Just that mine is the best. That's all.
I actually have certifiable evidence that this is so. My guitar teacher is of Polish descent, and I gave him some for Christmas. I knew he made or had family who made it, so it was kind of a risk. But -- as he tasted it, he said, "It's almost as good as my grandma's."
You have to understand Potica Wars. That is actually a great compliment. And I was tickled.
And here's the other thing. It's July, right?
Even my guitar teacher agrees: Potica is a holiday thing. Christmas and Easter. Thanksgiving only if you're lucky. The only other time would be for a wedding.
This made me chuckle and feel sorry for those who don't have access to home-baked potica.
Random Picture...
A while ago, I was invited to do a "black & white challenge" on FB. Mind you, I'd love to do another - especially with all the sturm und drang on FB lately!
This is one of my favorites. My old birdbath, when the solar bubbler worked. It was a gorgeous color picture, and I think the B & W made it look even more interesting. I would love to have another bubbler, because I think it's better for the birdbaths, and also keeps the mosquitoes down. But we have a large maple tree and it lets fly with the little whirly birds and there's tree fluff and all kinds of trash - which clogged the bubbler. The solar panel also didn't work well when the sun turned and we lost light (obviously, right?) so we may need to look into some sort of electric apparatus.
I love the sound of water. I'm still working on getting a fountain in the front yard somehow. I'm a little irritated at the place I was going to get it from: I'd done a "Yoga in the Garden" program for them for 3 years, and they up and replaced me - without letting me know, and after I'd called them to get dates for this year.
Turns out it was probably a good idea what with all the church stuff, but still...Loyalty, anyone? I'd have been just fine if they'd said, "Hey, we're going to go in another direction." But they just never called. A student of mine saw it in their newsletter and got all excited, thinking I'd managed to get in touch with them. That sort of thing is just uncool.
Anyway, now my hand is objecting to typing, so it's off to bed for me. Hopefully, to sleep and not to dream... or run to the bathroom in the wee hours!
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