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And a one, and a two, and a …


I'm guessing this will be the last repeating date I ever see. Unless science somehow makes it possible for me to live until the 22nd century. (OH EM GEE, what a horrible thought!)

Considering all I've been through so far, and all I've survived, it's a wonder I ever made it to the 21st. And that's a fact.

Nothing, apparently, happened at 12:12:12 a.m. on 12/12/12. Just a few more hours to go to find out about the second set of ones and twos on this magical day. I expect I'll be eating leftovers for lunch about that time. HOW EXCITING!

We had summer for dinner last night – pasta with pesto sauce, to which I added chicken sausages, sun-dried tomatoes, edamame, peppers and onions. The pesto, tomatoes and edamame came from the garden, preserved specifically for a cold and dreary day like yesterday. Summer for dinner, indeed.

I was going to title this post "Working out with Jackson" because yesterday was so cold and so dreary that I – gasp! – used the elliptical for 45 minutes instead of walking outside. And I watched part of Pollock while I ellipsed. I quit after I'd worked up quite a sweat and he figured out that dripping paint was more his style than brushing it on.

After I got cleaned up, Eleanor and I worked a little more on the doll I'm making for our youngest grandchild. I'm knitting the head; the legs, body and arms are done, so I'm definitely on the home stretch. Eleanor (Roosevelt) provided the entertainment via another film, one which chronicles her work as an ambassador to the United Nations following World War II. One scene showed her knitting.

Considering my recent denture adventures, I couldn't help being fascinated by actress Jean Stapleton's teeth. Eleanor Roosevelt had quite a toothy smile, and there must have been some capping going on to make Archie Bunker's wife's mouth so … um … big.

Good movie, though. I'm a great admirer of Mrs. Roosevelt. And of watching movies while I work out. Or knit.


Winnie said…
Your pasta sounds yummy. I recall reading stories Eleanor Roosevelt wrote in my mother's collection put out by Readers Digest years ago.

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