Only working until noon today, festive feeling for me. Then it's home, running a few errands along the way, clean a bit, pack, put collars on dogs, pack dog food & bowls, bring in plants except for pansies (they're on their own--it's supposed to get down into teens tonight), and I'm off to RI. I'm taking a tape of Travels with Charley, don't know if I'll feel like listening to it or not. Lately I can't listen to music, it's just all too sad for me. I usually enjoy listening to the radio on this trip, there's a radio station in Albany I like, but I'm not risking it.

Last night I sat in the dark for an hour, watching the clouds speed past the huge white moon through the trees, crying and crying. Tess' reaction to this was to pick up her head periodically, look at me, then go back to a dozey sleep. I have two reactions lately to Henry's death. One is a visceral feeling that hits me now and then--the pain is too great to confront all at once, so it comes in waves. I hurts and hurts and I mind so much that he's gone. I picture him so clearly but it's so painful to do that that it's like a flash, then I let it go. I know I have to confront it, so I bring it back, then the tears come. Sometimes I let them come, if I'm in a place where I can do that. Other times I push it all aside, let me deal with it later. Just be sure to deal with it, that's all. The other reaction I have is just this funny thing where I ask Henry "Are you really dead?" Well I know he's dead, I SAW him and I touched him, and there he was, stone cold. But Henry was so Henry, you could always ask him anything. So here's this great puzzle, Hen, are you really dead for good?

I know I'm supposed to be talking to people about this but I just don't feel like it. I should call my friend Ann, who's about 70 I think and is a wonderful friend, both talker and listener. Her brother died a long time ago, homeless at the time, and I know she would be a wonderful help and wouldn't mind helping me. I just don't have the energy to talk to anyone, and I've become such a solitary person that I've learned to solve my problems alone. I don't like to ask for help, it's a sign of weakness and I'm supposed to be living alone and self-sufficient. You only ask for help when you need a pickup truck, or your car is stuck in the snow. Other problems you can solve yourself. I think maybe paying someone to help me with this is the approach I'll have to take. It's easier, simpler, no strings attached, no risks involved, no one will hurt me if I don't do it the right way.

So I paid my bills online, then I bought a pair of shoes from zappos.com. $28 for a $68 pair of Sebagos. I think I'm trying to own every kind of shoe made before I die. They're having a big sale, with free shipping and you just can't pass up free shipping. 16 pages of size 7 shoes online, 99 pairs per page, and I checked them all out. Had to settle for just one, I'm really broke. Since I'm down two pairs of shoes, thank you Tess, it only seemed fair to replace one pair.

The daffodils, I know I keep saying this, are magnificent. What's with the yellow? Each year they get brighter and yellower. Maybe the weather has brought out the early bloomers and the mid bloomers at the same time because I sure have a lot in bloom right now.

So I did some data base deletes now I think I'll do some deletes in the other data base just to vary my routine. One clerk is out, the other in a meeting so no one cares what I do today. Director supposed to come in soon, I guess. I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and wise. OK, skip the pretty, but sometimes I do feel witty and wise.