Wow the morning went by fast. That's what two meetings back to back will do. Talk talk talk. Each consultant discusses each interaction we've had with a member library. That takes a long time. Then we talk about which libraries are planning to automate and what we think about the process and progress of that. Then we talk about some other things. The other meeting is just consultants, and we talk about things we don't want the director to know we're talking about. Usually more interesting than this morning's, but usually I'm more interesting than I was this morning.

So what kind of weekend did I have? Sad, interspersed with some action items. I did a little cleaning, went to the dump on Saturday, very proud of that. Threw out some outdoor stuff, a big achievement which makes a huge difference in the appearance of the front of the house. I spent a couple of hours reading in my chair on my deck in the sun, and no one can say there's a better activity than that. Ken came lumbering up the driveway while I was doing that, greeted by 3 bounding, happy dogs. He stayed for a quick visit. He'd been to town to the memorial service they have on the day they put all the winter dead in the ground at the Catholic cemetery. Not such a big crowd of bodies this year. I keep wandering around the yard and gardens, poking around, wishing I were more motivated to do things. I meant to sleep in the boat house Saturday night but couldn't bring myself to get down there and set it up. I will, I will.

Sunday was not as nice weather-wise, cloudy but still warm. I got up early, laundered, made brownies for Sunday dinner's dessert (brownies with ice cream and almond-flavored whipped cream), wandered around the yard. I finally made myself be productive and spent an hour pulling bramble berries from along the stone wall. This was a huge accomplishment, considering my frame of mind. These damn things come up every year, but I have to admit with great pride that there are far fewer than there were last year. Last year I spent an entire day pulling them up and spraying the clumps I couldn't get up with RoundUp, which kills every living thing. This year I sprayed a little bit with RoundUp, which apparently tastes really good to dogs, because Jack wandered around licking the stumps. What a jerk. Tess actually took herself for a swim somewhere, coming home nice and wet. Chances, the Best Dog in the World, stayed by me the whole time. I think a dog with minor cataracts may be the best pet of all.

Sunday dinner was nice. Ken's beans were delicious, a perfect batch. He loves making them and thrives on the attention he gets for it (who wouldn't). After dinner he & I went to Union Falls to look at some boats and motors that were for sale--I'd been eyeballing them for a week or so. Turns out they were 8 hp motors and there was only 1 left for sale. I didn't like the boats they had out front so the guy took me back to show me another one. Whole getup is $700, motor is 1990 Mercury. I put down a $50 deposit and will ask Rob if there's money in the Sonci treasury for the rest. Let's hope he says yes, otherwise I'll have to appeal to the trustees. The motor is worth $800, "so it's like getting the boat for free," says the guy. Since they know Ken I figure it's a pretty good deal. He's sold 10 so far in less than 2 weeks, another good sign. It's a nice, pretty heavy and sturdy boat. A rental motor, ran well last year and runs well this year too, so far. How long will it take the Rogers to fix it so it won't run anymore?

Home to digest dinner and feel a bit sad. Am having a hard time these days, not sure why I'm sinking instead of moving forward. What's the progression here? Shouldn't I be making forward motions? I don't seem to be. I got home after 3 and don't remember doing much of anything from then until I went to bed last night. Oh yes, I brushed the dogs. Jack hated it, fussed, barked, opened his mouth at me ("Go ahead and bite me, I'll have you killed. That's what I did with the last dog."). I'm so sick of fine yellow hair in my carpet. Tess runs to the smallest space under the table in the tiniest corner imaginable. I crawl under there just to show her I can, then Chances follows me because she thinks it must be really interesting, and Jack stands behind her and barks. And they say living alone is boring!

This afternoon I have an appointment with my psychiatrist, at last. Let's see what he makes of all this. I almost feel bad telling him my brother died, he'll think it's so sad and will feel so bad for me. It'll be good to hear how he thinks I'm doing. Unfortunately it's a short appointment, only 20 minutes, but he'll let me know if I need more. I can't tell how I'm doing. Is this the right way to feel for the right amount of time? Am I a mess or just a devoted sister? I don't cry all the time but I cry suddenly. I'm not at the point where things remind me of Henry--EVERYTHING makes me think of Henry, he's just always in my mind and my heart. It hurts, physically hurts to think of him. And then there's fear (which I know from my "research" is a natural reaction) that I might die too. I can't die, that wouldn't be fair to my mother. But mostly I'm just so sorry that my brother died. Every once in a while a voice in my head just says "Henry's dead," and I can't believe it's really true. How can this be? Of all the people I know he was the least likely to die, he was the one who would always be there--for me, for everyone, we could count on him. I hate to sound selfish, but I needed him, I depended on him. I still do, desperately. I'm working on this, what will I do without him. I don't know the answer. Live my life, obviously, I have no choice.

Well for now I guess I'll just catalog some boring videos, that should cheer me up and distract me. Wish there were something fascinating I could research, but unfortunately no one's looking for any interesting information right now. Maybe I'll check on the dogs in the kennel.