There certainly are some interesting places I HAVEN'T been to in this country, aren't there.  Some places I've always wanted to go.  Guess I've covered the Rust Belt pretty thoroughly, back and forth a few times even.
 
Heavy air here today, stuffy and muggy.  We had rain over the weekend.  Yesterday morning it was semi-sunny, thick haze over the lake, taking away the mountains until the haze burned off and they reappeared.  Sort of the way my consciousness reappeared, slowly.  I lay in bed in the boat house, staring out at the lake for a long time (while the brown girls stared at me from above, standing on the bed looking down at me as they do in the morning).  Little did I know that Tess had shredded half a box of kleenex on the porch in the wee hours.  If that's all she did I was lucky, though.  At home I've got all my shoes piled in the bathroom, which is shut off from her at night.  I've lost some precious shoes now to the little darling.
 
Saturday I had to go to Westport, which is a beautiful town on Lake Champlain, but the part I went to is not on the lake, it's on the highway.  Took Jackson to the vet, tried to give him back.  No luck.  That's ok, he's mine now.  He's healthy, a good weight, no heartworms, all shot up.  I'd just watched a Sharon Stone movie in which she gets executed, 4 vials of stuff go into her veins.  Jack got 4 vials of stuff shot into his veins too, only he didn't die, he perked right up and wagged his tail a lot.  Loved being the center of attention.
 
Saturday night was the final night of Linda's visit, this time.  She'll be back in 2 weeks.  We had our usual drinkathon.  Whiskey first, then wine, then scotch, then rum.  I can do that, especially since the last three were in moderation.  Just a shot of each,  to savor.  Apparently Erdvilas drinks like that at home too.  How a human could function is beyond me.  But then, I don't think he really does.  Sunday was Sunday dinner, 5 of us this week so it was festive and nice.  Spent the afternoon sleeping.  This is dangerously close to clinical depression, I'm afraid.  I'm keeping my psychiatrist's number at hand and think I may need to adjust my meds.  I'm just sleeping too much these days and have no interest in much of anything.   I did stack firewood for 1/2 an hour last night, though, which belies the depression theory.  Let's see what this week brings.  Tonight I hope to take the chocolates to the vet for their $100 conversation with David (each, that is--for $100 I get their company and good health for a year, I don't think that's bad at all, really).  I had a 2 p.m. appointment but had to cancel it because I can't take the afternoon off, too much to do.  Now I have to go and wait with the rest of the walk-ins.  Keeseville boogers, yuck.  We all sit in the waiting room and stare at each other, comparing pets and guts.  Sometimes it's entertaining but sometimes it's just really depressing because there are people who've never taken their pets to the vet at all.
 
Molly's been working hard on the program for Henry's memorial service.  Henry's memorial service.  God that sounds awful.  I guess it's the last thing we'll do about all this, together anyway.  I'm surprising myself by planning to read something.  I never have the strength to do that, but what I'm reading I really like and is something that is personal for me and seems to mesh with what I feel about Henry as well as some of my philosophy about humankind.  Since it's not a personal recollection about Henry, I think I can do it.  It's not a poem, sentimental or emotional, it's analytical.  Besides, it's Steinbeck.  That should make it ok to read.  We'll see how I do.  If I get to go first that should help a whole lot, too.  I spoke at Kox's memorial, rambled on a bit but did get to say some things about how much she meant to me as a child and how important she always was in my life.
 
And now it's time to do some more cataloging.  Children's books, adult books and then the bane of my professional existence: videos.