It's a charmed life, and I can't complain. I'm back at work, not minding particularly (although it's time for me to start cataloging, and we all know that will lead to moans and groans, both from my body and my mind). I had a nice weekend, 3 days off to separate myself from Plattsburgh and reality. Friday night I had a late dinner with a favorite cousin, one who has been so nice to me over the past 9 years (NINE years!) since my ex-husband decided he didn't want to be married anymore. Bill, the cousin, has been a wonderful friend, source of support, lots of fun, and is really a nice, nice person. And when my brother died he was crushed, because he really admired my brother and it's been really hard for him to accept this loss but he's been so nice to me about it all. Anyway, Bill has a great, new wife and the cutest, happiest 2-year-old son in the family. So I had dinner with them at their camp and we had a nice visit. I got home sober and early, a nice change for me. I spent the night in the boat house, woke up to a disappointing morning but spent a long time lying in bed staring at the lake and the mountains anyway. Finally had to succumb to my full bladder and face the cousins in camp (in the kitchen: this will give you a clue as to who exactly was in camp). Saturday was supposed to be sunny and warm but was cloudy and cold instead, so I rebelled by staying in my living room and watching TV and doing nothing. I watched Richard Gere and Julia Roberts (Runaway Bride). Ken stopped by and agreed that it was a lousy day. Saturday night I went to Linda's for what was touted as a gourmet dinner. I had 4 invitations for dinner that night but had committed to Linda's, and was looking forward to this one too. We had 4 courses, with at least one bottle of wine for each course. There were 5 of us and I swear we drank at least 7 bottles of wine. It was fun to be with these people--they were friends of Linda's whom she had traveled in Europe with , renting villas in Tuscany one year and Provence another. They are great, lovely, funny, sweet and great company. They all really like each other and are very witty so I really enjoyed myself (not REALLY in the alcoholic sense, though I thoroughly enjoyed the wine). Dinner was also very, very good. Erdvilas was not so good. He does not like it when someone else gets attention, especially Linda's attention.

Sunday was sunny, though hazy, and I got up early enough to clean the living room and clear off the dinner table (miracle of miracles). Bill was gone for the weekend so I cooked Sunday dinner for Ken. I was all set to cook him massive quantities of shrimp, which were frozen and defrosting on the top of the stove while I took my shower. When I came down to check on their progress the bag was missing...gone and empty on the floor. Yes, my sweet Jackson, you are nothing if not resourceful. He ate at least a pound of shrimp, shells and all, and when I screamed "SHIT SHIT SHIT" at him he merely hung his head, put his ears back and wagged the tip of his tail. You can't really be angry at a 12 year old piece of shit dog you adopted, now can you? Anyway, luckily I had swordfish I'd inherited from the rich campers who wanted their freezer cleaned out by Ken, so I defrosted that and cooked it for him. He was happy enough. We had a nice, if subdued meal, which we ate in record time since we both, apparently, wanted to be doing other things. He was gone by 1:15, leaving me with plenty of time to head to camp to sit on the dock.

Just as I arrived at camp, so did a boatful of cousins and their kids. Bill and his wife Connie, their son Nicholas, plus Bill's sister's 3 kids all arrived to swim on our side of the lake. Just after that Bill's parents, brother (whom I haven't seen this year and like very much), sister and her husband all arrived. OK, too many people, but they're nice people. The other people left that morning. Johnny and Anne, brother and sister, set up folding chairs on the dock and looked just like their grandparents, sitting there surveying the world. Pretty funny. I had enough dock time with my dogs, then took a long nap in the boat house. Lucky girl, aren't I?

That night I went to Hot Dog Man for ice cream with Fred--the last night of the season, it closed the next day.

Yesterday was sunny and hot--YESYESYES. I got up early, sat on my deck and read for a while. The brown girls disappeared for three long hours, climbing the bluffs goodness knows how many times with goodness knows how many people. Lin came and we walked down to camp for a minute to retrieve her stuff from our book group gathering. She left and I went to the bog to get my dogs ("Do you own them?" people always ask me this, presumably because the dogs are not particularly happy to see me when I call them over to me. Yes, I do. "They're really nice dogs." Yes, they're very sociable.). So I took the brown girls to camp and we sat on the dock in the sun for a couple of hours. It was nice but a bit windy--rats! I missed the glassy morning, waiting for the dogs to return. I went for a swim, yes a swim. As I was standing in the water, the exhausted Tess (she and Chances were totally wiped out, leading me to believe they went to the top of the bluffs at least twice) crawled under my lounge chair, then stood up, knocking the chair and it's contents--my book, glasses, towel, shirt, soda, etc.--into the water. I watched the chair float while the book and everything else sort of sank. HONESTLY! THESE DOGS! Fortunately it was my book, not the library's, and only the edges got wet. It was The amazing adventures of Kavalier and Clay, which I'd just started reading again, having finished The mysteries of Pittsburgh that morning. I liked Pittsburgh very much. Anyway, again, I can't complain about my dogs, I encourage them to be goofy and idiosyncratic. She likes to lie under furniture and I don't keep her from doing it--it's just a strange thing to do on the dock, and really, she should know that you can't stand up under a chair.

Last night I went to dinner with Bill at some campers'--they're from California, small town in the Bay Area. Didn't know there were small towns in the Bay Area. Anyway, he's a children's author, she's a children's therapist. They're really nice and interesting and we had a very nice evening. I don't know them terribly well so it was fun to be with new people. Expanding the social circle. They met at camp as children, have been married a long time. Her brother owns the camp, it's just down the hill from my house. I've spent time with him before but have only dined with her one other time. Jackson adores them, visits their camp when he can. They think he should be their camp dog when they're in camp. I agree, offered to have him stay there any time. Let him eat THEIR shrimp.

And that brings me to the present. Got to work at 7:30, called my mother and had a nice talk with her. She wants to go to bed for 2 months and do nothing. It's hard to have nothing happen to you in the fall, after being a teacher for so many years. That plus having your wonderful son die is enough to send you to bed for a long time. I do feel lucky to have a job in the first place, but I also feel lucky because it gives my life focus and structure, helps me know what to expect from the day. That's very useful in the grieving process, I've found.

Later this week we're supposed to have Hurricane Frances visit us. Maybe 2" of rain. The reason we had such a wet and lousy (weather-wise) summer was that the jet stream got stalled, I heard this morning. They have to blame it on something. Tonight I'm having dinner with the cousins across the lake. What can I blame that on? Good manners, thank you mother.