Work is the best antidote to sorrow, my dear Watson.
In the past three days, I have:
Completed a significant amount of knitting on my wedding shawl.
Attended two Quaker committee meetings and a Meeting for Worship.
Cooked up a batch of cheesy biscuits, a platter of roasted-beet and goat-cheese nibbles, Moussaka, a second batch of biscuits . . . etc.
Worked an eight hour shift.
Completed all the grocery shopping and cleaned the kitchen.
Gone on two two-and-a-half mile runs.
Dealt with endless headaches surrounding my pickup truck.
And sundry other errands, like letter-writing and laundry-folding.
Most significantly, however, I walked myself down to Richmond Rescue and filled out an application (some of you may be getting phone calls). It's what Jack would have wanted.
Completed a significant amount of knitting on my wedding shawl.
Attended two Quaker committee meetings and a Meeting for Worship.
Cooked up a batch of cheesy biscuits, a platter of roasted-beet and goat-cheese nibbles, Moussaka, a second batch of biscuits . . . etc.
Worked an eight hour shift.
Completed all the grocery shopping and cleaned the kitchen.
Gone on two two-and-a-half mile runs.
Dealt with endless headaches surrounding my pickup truck.
And sundry other errands, like letter-writing and laundry-folding.
Most significantly, however, I walked myself down to Richmond Rescue and filled out an application (some of you may be getting phone calls). It's what Jack would have wanted.