Thanks to the generosity of my sister, Jeanne, who gave me the "thank you" gift cards she received from some company or other (I got - well, Don - a $20 Visa debit card from TXU as a "thank you" only I can't figure out how to use it), I went to Penney's and used one of them on a quilt for my bed and a floor lamp for the living room.

Which do you think looks better for the placement of the lamp?  Behind the sofa:

Or to the right, with the pub table moved over?

Maybe I moved the table a smidge too far to the right.  That's the trouble with decorating.  Pick, pick, pick!

Zeus does love it when put the computer down on the floor, for she's discovered the heat vent:

Kitty heaven!  ;^)

This morning I felt the urge to tweak the furniture again.  Only trouble is, I'm left with a chair with nowhere to go (the one that sat next to the round table).

Still, what do y'all think?

Speaking of change, last night Dmitry helped me rearrange some of the furniture.  Basically we simply switched the sofa and the recliners, and I cleared out a bunch of the toys.  The sofa's up against the south wall, and I'm not sure it really looks that spiffy, what with the drapes behind half of it, but that's the way it goes:

Hmmmm.  Looks as if that picture is slightly awry.  Odd how it escapes my attention until I see it in a photo.  The carpet has black streaks on it from where the recliners were, as the furniture stayed like it had been for ten years.  The television and computer desk are "fixed" (the latter could fit in the corner, but then whoever's sitting at it is facing away from the rest of the room, and in any case, that desk was a bear to get together in the first place.  I sure am not fiddling with it.  My recliner is the one farthest away, BTW. 

This evening was the birthday party celebrating Jessica's 30th birthday, and Charles' 22d (the cake was dedicated solely to Jessica, though).  I fixed two entrees, Confetti Spaghetti and macaroni and cheese, plus had a green salad.  For dessert was the aforementioned cake and a lemon pie Mom and Dad gave me yesterday.  Jessica was thrilled to pieces about the pie, skipping the cake in favor of it, and taking the rest of it home with her.  Thanks, Mom and Dad!  

We were blessed by the presence of my eldest granddaughter, Kirsten;  here she is with Jonathan:

I think that's an excellent photo of Jonathan. 

Kirstin and Bethany were present, but Matt and the boys stayed home....Matt and Benjamin because they've had the flu, and Bryson because he was sleeping and as Kirstin put it, "Don't wake the beast!"  Here are Bethany and Brianna with Bridgette:

Charles reading one of his cards, with Kirstin in the foreground:

Proving that one needn't spend a fortune to give a welcome gift, Jonathan wrapped and presented Jessica with a Red Bull energy drink.  BION, she was delighted:

Bridgette has really gotten the hang of that "stretch one's leg while grabbing one's toes" thing:

Kirstin had apparently gathered up various pacifiers left at her house and handed them to Jessica.  From there they found their way into the mouths of not only their proper owner, but the older girls.  What a trio of silly-billies!  

As their uncles duly noted, this will be a wonderful blackmail photo in the future, won't it?  The girls were, as usual, all over their uncles, and Jonathan grabbed a can of compressed air, dubbing it "niece repellent."  You can imagine the squealing that ensued as he - and Charles - spraying them with it.  

It was a nice party!  Hard to believe my Jessica Marie's about to be 30 years old. 

Just so everyone is aware that though much has changed in my life, there are still many things set in stone, and here's one of 'em:

I hate, detest, and abhor daylight savings time, which is scheduled to be inflicted on us in the wee hours of the morning. 

Yuck.  Fiddling with the time is just wrong, and I don't care what anyone says.  

Mercy Maud, am I behind the times! When I think of "line dancing" I think of country-western sort of stuff.

Which is fine by me, as I'm partial to country music.

Turns out not only are there samba and rumba styles of line dances, there's waltz line dancing!

How in pity's name does one perform a waltz as a line dance?

This first class concentrated on fairly basic steps and dances...one called the "101". One thing I've got to do prior to the next class is get a new pair of shoes; the slip-ons I wore were a hindrance, as I'd keep stepping out of one, causing me to lose my place as I frantically tried to stuff my heel back into it.

There's no denying it IS good exercise!

Been giving it some thought as to what would qualify as having the primary grief period behind me, and have pretty much decided it'll be when, one, I don't cry on a daily basis and, two...and this is a biggie...when Saturday becomes just another day of the week, instead of The Day Don Died.

Actually, I've improved tremendously, as it used to be each day of the week was tied to Don's illness and death (Sunday was the last day we spoke and the day he went under sedation; Friday was the day he entered the hospital; Tuesday was the day the cancer was discovered, and so on).  I don't tend to do that so much any longer, particularly the weekdays.

Also used to brood every afternoon from about 2 until 5 p.m., reliving when the ventilator was removed, being at his side as he died, and his death pronounced at 4:40.

You can imagine what fun Saturday afternoons were. 

It's gotten to where 4:40 p.m. can pass without my 'noticing' it, IYSWIM.  Big improvement.  I still tend to mentally spend a lot of time in Don's hospital room, but not as much as before, and not as regularly. 

When Don and I were married I used to note Thursdays (that's when we were married...on a Thursday evening), counting how many weeks we'd been married.  I'm pretty sure that by the time three months had passed I'd stopped, but Don's death was traumatic in a way our wedding wasn't, so it's not surprising it's taking longer, but I'm optimistic that one of these weeks a Saturday will come and go without my thinking about Don dying.

That's when I'll consider I've become accustomed to the new "normal."

A little bit ago I was at SuperTarget (insert gasp of astonishment at such an unusual occurrence, hehehe) and could not help but notice one of those oversized pickup trucks was hitting the curb while trying to leave his parking space, necessitating his backing up and having another shot at it, then drove straight at me on the wrong side of the parking lot aisle (or whatever it's called) for an unnerving moment.

As soon as he passed, the shopping cart he hadn't bothered to put into the conveniently close corral began to head straight for the right front fender of my van, so I had to quickly shift into reverse so as to avoid it.

Good thing there wasn't anyone behind me!

Whipped out my cell phone to snap a photo showing where the cart was in relation to the cart corral:

The pickup was parked directly across from the corral, but the driver couldn't be bothered to put his cart tidily - and safely - away? 

That's lazy. 

(For the record, no, I didn't leave it there....I used it myself.)

One of the hard parts of widowhood is there's such a large element of darned-if-I-do-darned-if-I-don't involved.  If I think much about Don I get depressed and start crying.

If I don't think about him and realize I've not thought about him for a bit, it makes me feel guilty and depressed and I cry.

If I arrange things the way I like them - but know Don wouldn't like it - I feel guilty.  But then it seems silly to keep things the way Don liked when he's not here any longer.

As an example, I had the lawn care guy here this morning to TRIM.  Don and I had vastly different philosophies of landscaping, which we hadn't known until the yard was landscaped and began growing.  I like a neat, manicured look while Don (which surprised me quite a lot, I wouldn't have guessed it) preferred a wilder, more natural look (barring the grass and weeds...there our hearts beat as one). 

Jason (the man who has cared for our yard for the past few years) cut the bushes way back today, per my request, and (which would have given Don fits) trimmed the lower branches on the crepe myrtles, as I want them to look more like trees, as opposed to bushes.

Personally, I like the way it all looks, but I feel guilty because were Don alive it wouldn't have happened. 

Presumably this feeling will eventually fade.