Karen Bentley Pollick and the Albany Consort played in the Bing Series at Stanford Hospital today.  She lives on the East Coast now and it was rare and good to see her again. And the music!

I could have laughed out loud for joy at the first piece: they had no way to know that WMAL, I think it was, would play that piece to announce that it was time for the 5:00 news; my mom and I would be on our way home from my piano lessons. I had them twice a week. Those violins to me mean me learning music–and spending time with my mom with no competition from siblings. When I got old enough to drive myself, I missed that one-on-one (after Kathy moved away).

The one thing that had had me holding my breath over going today, though, was that the walk from the parking lot at noon is not lupus-friendly. I said a prayer of, I know there are a lot of people worse off than me around here… but if…

And so it was that one of the few handicapped spots next to the door was open. I motioned to an elderly driver to take it but he instead pulled ahead and parked illegally right at the door and ran in.

Nobody in view coming up behind, which is very rare there. Huh. I guess I can’t feel guilty. And so, very gratefully, I got to go enjoy with only having to take a few steps in the sunlight. That helped more than I can say.

Ran home, grabbed a really fast bite, back out the door and to the endocrinologist. (Underground parking.) That Reclast infusion I had a few months ago? “I’ve never seen this, I’ve never even *heard* of this!” The followup tests showed it had done absolutely nothing. My bones are still melting:  hips, 29% in four years. I asked if it were a new autoimmune manifestation? He just shook his head; too soon to know why on earth.

Came home, grabbed a small bite again, answered my email. Saw a small raptor buzz through the porch so fast that I had no idea what it was, then I was back out the door yet again.

My friend Johnna was having a birthday: her first as a single mom, her marriage having recently been yanked out from under her with her house about to be too.

An email circulated a few days ago and the plan was made. A bunch of us took her out to dinner together tonight, good food, good friends, good times made.

She loved my hat. I asked her re colors. She told me. I think I may still have some Malabrigo in that, and now I know something I can do.

Karen, meantime, got a piano hat; I haven’t figured out yet how to do violin hats.

(p.s. Purlescence has a new supply of copies of Wrapped in Comfort: Knitted Lace Shawls. Just sayin’.)