Misfits, knitting and Tunisian crochet

 Misfits arrived early, cheerful carrier, items ready to include in yesterday's food prep.

The spaghetti and parmesan were lunch, with spaghetti sauce I'd frozen last week. More berries, these definitely blackberries, black, globe shaped, more seedy, and a good dessert with yogurt and a sprinkle of cane sugar.

Later the parsley went into a naan bread with tuna caper salad and cheddar for a supper tuna melt. I think I'm doing justintime  ordering -- food into immediate rotation. 

At this point I don't need to cook for a couple of days, what with soup in the freezer, the chickpea bread, extra spaghetti, and a fairly new batch of yogurt.

So I can turn to other interests. The second Pant is completed, needs seaming and finishing. And a new friend in fiber said she was interested in learning Tunisian crochet, so I promptly referred her to YouTube. I'll probably help when I next see her, if she wants. 

Meanwhile she rekindled my interest, and I cast on a little sample in Simple Stitch, which makes a good fabric. You see it on the hook here, bottom right. It's a cross between crochet and knitting, and an interesting change from both.

I think I've found a kindred spirit -- she loves any fiberart form, spins, knits, is now interested in checking on Textiles and Tea. And she lives in my old neighborhood, where she's surprised to find that she and her husband are now the oldest around. I know that feeling.

The Haggard Hawks puzzle answer, which quite a few people were onto quickly was

FOLKLORE

Yesterday I didn't feel like walking, though the weather was sunny and cool, but I did the chair squats and hip stretches on the stairs -- vital if you spend any time sitting in unfriendly library chairs, which stack nicely and don't like humans. 

Then I caught a little extract from The Boyfriend, a sixties musical set in the thirties, lovely swingy music. So I danced, singing, about the living room.

In uni, my actual boyfriend played in the dramatic society production of The Boyfriend, so that was a saunter down memory lane. I was engaged to him, until family oppo to a dreaded Catholic, me, broke it up. Probably a lucky escape from the mother in law from hell, and a husband who deferred to her, I realized later. 

Then I was engaged to another guy, considered a catch, who proved not to be, and I broke up with him. His mom was lovely, and if I could have had her as a MIL without her son, I'd have done it. 

All this time, Handsome Partner was waiting, biding his time. He'd told my best friend, whose lab he supervised as a graduate student, that as soon as he saw me, at a party we threw, he had decided to marry me. 

Which, three years, and two engagements later, he did! Next week is our sixty-first wedding anniversary. He checked out thirteen years early, but oh well. He knew how to play the long game.

Happy day, everyone, a prompt just came up on my feed asking me to consider where I might be in five, or ten, years. I'm pretty sure I know the answer to that, but meanwhile I'm dancing in the living room!