Another banner day, sunny and clear. Slightly cooler than it's been--a front went through yesterday with a line of showers. It was wicked humid during the day, then the rains came and washed the air. Lucky thing it rained, my little planties needed some water wicked bad.

I spent the morning toting boxes of books to the dumpster that Plattsburgh Public Library had for the day. That was fine, but the sides of the dumpster were about 6 1/2' high, so I had to toss the boxes up over my head. I'm not THAT strong, and didn't need to be reminded of it. Since there's no one else interested in doing the work, one of the clerks and I did it. I just love this place, everyone is eager to help out, as long as it's work they feel like doing. If it's work they don't feel like doing suddenly it becomes not their job and therefore not their job. Is it really MY job, as a 25-year veteran with a master's degree to throw boxes of books into a dumpster? But then, I do like variety in my job--I believe us oranges are known for that. That's orange, not anjers.

Today is mellower. I slept later. OK, didn't sleep, but was really entertained by the 2 brown girls for at least 20 minutes while they tried to get me out of bed. They weren't sure I was awake, but they suspected it. Chances put her nose under my head (I'm face down on the pillow) and gave it a mighty shove. My head bobs up a bit. She does that at least 6 times, then tries the same move with a paw. Tess tries an attack from the other side, from the floor. All I can see of Tess through the comforter is a huge brown nose, exaggerated and distorted because I don't have my glasses on and everything else of her is blurry. She nudges her way into my face over and over, getting more and more frustrated. If they could talk to each other they'd be like Molly and I were when we were children, carrying on a variety of conversations that sisters do. Finally I speak, only a couple of words, which drives them wild with glee and they both jump and bounce on the bed. When I roll over they're both standing still, looking down at me, wagging their tails with the cutest expressions on their faces. I think everyone should have two sweet female chocolate Labs. When we make it to the living room, Jackson is still sleeping in the bright sunlight on the couch, picks his head up slowly, "Wha? time to get up?" I could really stay home day after day and play with these dogs. But then my life would really be strange, wouldn't it.

So I spent the morning weeding old rotten fiction books and the afternoon deleting records from the data base. yawn. At least this week I've put together a mammoth book order, trying desperatelyl to catch us up with what's going on in the world of publishing. I'm about 6 weeks behind, not having placed an order since before I went to Wisconsin. Shame on me, not a good thing for our (not so) patient patrons. And now I incur the wrath of the clerk who actually places the orders, because this will be a $9000 order, so big it will cause her to actually have to work. Can't win for trying around here--she hates it when I don't order because that's her favorite part of her job.

Tonight I cook for Ken. He wants to come to my house and I haven't cleared off the dinner table yet so I have to hustle when I get home. No, REALLY hustle. There's no space bigger than about a 2" square on the table right now. I did finally move the mittens and knit hat and put them away for the summer, but the q-tips that escaped from the box that Tess chewed up are all over the table and there are 3 bins of dog food and so many other things on the table I couldn't begin to list them. Where will I put them? Some of them have as their permanent home...THE DINNER TABLE. I swept the floor this morning in prep. of his visit. I always count on his vision being poor, and during the winter months I can count on its being dark, but now it's light until 8:30 so the floor needs to be relatively clean. The house is messy but that doesn't seem to bother him. What will I cook? Chicken thighs I took out of the freezer from quite a while ago. I love checking epicurious.com for recipes. They have 128 recipes for chicken thighs so I settled on oven-fried chicken. That should please him. And rice pilaf, I know he likes that, and a green vegetable, which only I feed him.

And tomorrow is Thursday, after which comes Friday, and then we're into another weekend. So soon? Yes, at last. This weekend I told Ken I'd buy him his tomato plants. This means I have to go back to Lamoy's and will buy myself some more annuals. Getting paid on Friday will enable me to spend at least $20 of disposable income on plants. At $1.99 a 6-pack--you do the math. For every 10 6-packs you get 1 free. Pansies are only $1.29/6-pack. But I've already bought about 10 of them, maybe that's enough. Pansies have been a favorite since I was a small child.

I have to mow my lawn. I didn't take the mower in for servicing, no cash (tired of this theme?). It shouldn't really need work. Ken asked if I had it serviced. "Not this year." But you'll change the oil? "Well, yes, I guess so. What weight should I use?" Straght 30 I should guess, but your owner's manual will tell you. Oh yeah, where the hell is the owner's manual? So then he tells me how to change the oil. But at least he reminded me that first and foremost I have to CHECK the oil before I even start it up, to make sure there's oil in it. This is a good thing, a very good thing. All I was thinking about was having to buy yet another gas container because the dog took off with the one I got last year and dragged it into the woods somewhere. As if I didn't have enough responsibilities maintaining the house, I have to tune up my mower as well.

And when I was doing the wash the other day the hose on the back of the machine came loose from the pipe that goes out to the drywell and instead of having water go into the machine, water was being pumped onto the floor. Like at least 8 gallons, while I pulled the machine away from the wall and assessed the situation and figured out how to solve it. At least I could solve it--replace the pipe that had fallen loose, stick the hose back in the pipe, and it was as if it had never happened, except for the 1/2 inch of water all over the floor. That's such a lot of water, really it is. So I put towels down all over the floor, then I have to wash the towels and it just seems to be such a cycle--do the wash, mop the wash water, wash the towels used to mop the washwater. The joys of homeowning. And now the floor is clean, very clean. And even the plywood under the vinyl tile is still wet, and that happened days ago. Dry, damn it, dry! (when we had an ancient dachshund nicknamed in his elder years Darbert, my father would look at him and say, "Die, Darbert, Die!").

And now it's nearly time to go home. Try to find the 2 rolls of toilet paper that Tess took off the window sill this morning. Where did she put them? I'm now down to the last roll. Not a good thing for someone who lives alone and is at the mercy of a paper-obsessed puppy.