Right now

Outside my window: The skeletal branches of the pear tree are bumpy with fuzzy buds.

I am thankful: that I went to the birthday party of a friend whom I hadn't seen in years. I worried it might be awkward to reunite after all that time, but it was actually fun and joyful and only a tiny bit awkward. Next week I am going to the birthday party of a different friend, also one whom I've had barely any contact with for years. (Does running into each other at the farmers' market last spring count? Maybe, but despite our best efforts, never managed to "get coffee and catch up." So sad. But I digress from thankful...) So I am thankful for birthdays and reunions and me stepping into my awkward feelings because of the potential for reconnection, and that the risk paid off.

I am wearing: My painting clothes: long-sleeve Yosemite Institute t-shirt, green pants, flip-flops, bandana on my head.

I am working on: finishing the binding on the quilt I started in my beginning quilting class, and piecing together the half-square triangle blocks into rows for Kate's baby's quilt. But I'm in that stage with both these projects where the work is tedious, and usually I plan or begin or yearn for new projects. I'm not going to let that happen--I'm finishing these before starting anything else quilty. Cross my heart. Also, I'm priming and painting the bed frame.

I am going: out to dinner with Mr. Hands tonight, to celebrate 13 years plus 10 days since our first date.

I am reading: Lucky Bastard, by S.G. Browne (ugh--it's awful).

I am thinking: about relationships and the work that one does or doesn't do to maintain them, and how there's also a natural ebb and flow to these things but there is also effort, and how people are like helium balloons and how easy it is to let the strings that hold them slip from your hands without hardly noticing at all. And I realize this is an imperfect metaphor because people are not balloons and one person isn't holding the string to a healthy relationship, but it's been a useful way to think about it.

I am hoping: that of all the options connected to the news my brother gave me last night regarding my sister-in-law's health, that the best case scenario one is the one that will prevail.

I want: to take the dog for a long walk, to see Bless Me, Ultima, to sit for a while with this melancholy mood that feels soft and familiar, to get compost and mix up the soil in the raised bed.

I need: to plant the "snow sugar" pea hybrid plantlings I purchased last weekend before I kill them with neglect in their plastic pot.

I am listening to: Watership Down, by Richard Adams, narrated by Ralph Cosham, on my iPhone.

Around the house: In the Sofa vs. Cats Conflict of 2013, the sofa has conceded and given up its territory. It's hanging out (in shame) in the demilitarized zone (the garage), being generally in the way and making it difficult to do anything useful in there. The plan is to ignore it until the problem solves itself rent a steam cleaning machine from the grocery store and see what we can to to clean it up. Then give it away or take it to the dump, depending on success. In the meantime, options for replacement are being considered and we're actually eating at the dining table instead of in front of the TV. Oh, who am I kidding? We're eating in front of our computers.

Something new: Carpet on the stairs. And a Selphy 900.

A favorite: Mr. Hands and I are making plans, making decisions, and getting things done for our home. I have written up lists (many many lovely lists) and drawn up a schedule, of course.