The lost weekend
It was a beautiful weekend, warm with the golden glow of the tamaracks, but I didn't take advantage of it at all. I talked to my mother Saturday afternoon and said that I'd done nothing, really, all day, and felt like doing nothing for the rest of the day. She diagnosed me as being depressed, said she'd felt the same way all week. I guess she was right, because after I talked to her I did NOT go to the dump as I'd planned, instead I lay down on the couch and went to sleep (sound, sound sleep) for 2 hours. When I woke the dump was closed so I had no choice. She was sad because she spent the week cleaning out the storage space under the eaves upstairs, throwing out things of my father's (psychology texts and books about Richard Nixon), sorting through things from her children's' youth (papers we created as children) and discovering the dresses she and her daughters wore to my brother's first wedding ("If you want to know where they are, when I die, there in a box under the eaves. They're very funny-looking"). I thought she had a more valid (is there a more valid?) reason for sadness than I did. Anyway, Saturday was a beautiful day but I stayed indoors and did nothing but clean my living room rug. That was a wasted effort because as I napped the dogs trashed it all over again.

The dogs. What to do about them. Friday night at 9:30, after they'd been outside for 2 hours, I got a call from a house a mile away and on the other side of the hardtop saying they'd just let the chocolate Labs in so they wouldn't be hit by a car. The old yellow dog was no longer there. I knew that, he'd come home an hour before. I drove right over there, after identifying where they were ("We're in the double-wide on the Union Falls road half a mile from Ken Laundry's house." Are you Spooner's? "Yes." I'll be right there). They all came out onto their tiny porch when I drove up. "The other one (Chances) will be out in a minute. She's having a bite to eat." Yesterday, just before I was leaving for Sunday dinner I got a call from the people who live just across the hardtop, next to my mailbox. "Elizabeth, do you have THREE dogs?" yes. "They're here, digging in our flower beds. They didn't come here all last year, but they've been here 5 or 6 times so far this year. Now they're in our pond!" I'll be right there. I'm really, really sorry.

So now I have to be really vigilant and let them out one at a time EVERY time I let them out. The thing is that I walked them for an hour yesterday morning before letting them one last time before going to Ken's at noon. Nothing works, they just think I'm boring and they miss the summer people. I walked into the bog yesterday to take their Christmas pictures with the backdrop of the glow of the tamaracks. It's beautiful but they wouldn't pose for me at all. Now I know why, they were plotting their next escape. Ken got really angry when I told him (why did I tell him? Probably to reinforce my own scolding). "They're you're dogs and you've got to watch them. They're going to get hit by a car and it'll either cost a lot of money or they'll be dead." well, he's right. I shudder to think of it. Do I have to have bad things happen before I believe that they really will happen?

Yesterday after dinner I watched In America, a DVD I bought. I thought it was a nice film about a family that goes on holiday in America. Wrong. An Irish family comes to America after their son dies. Two sisters and the parents trying to come to terms with the death of the boy. Well man I didn't need to see that. It's excellent, though, and I enjoyed it, right up to the end when they all finally make peace with Frankie's death. Then I watched some Kate Hudson flick on HBO. This gives you some idea of what sort of shape I was really in. At least I'm knitting now while I watch, doing something vaguely productive.

I've been walking the dogs nearly every day, and do enjoy that. The girls are so funny to watch. The pair of horses I always wanted, in a match race. They come galloping toward me, then gallop away from me, Tess grabbing at Chances' collar. They love the action. Jackson keeps up and seems to enjoy being part of the group. I walk down to the Holt's construction site to check on the progress. The first day I was there the guy with the backhoe was there with Leisa. He was a friend of Jamie's and did the work on our house, dug our well and did our driveway. He remembered me and it was really nice to see him. We talked, joked the way we always did. I haven't seen him in 10 years so that was really nice. I never know what these people think of me, what they've heard about the circumstances of the separation, but I think most of them know that he just walked out. Actually, I'm sure that Kent heard that because he's good friends with Eddie, who's a good friend of mine and did the work on our boat house 2 years ago so we re-connected then and I told him the whole story then. There, the circle is complete. Anyway, I liked seeing Kent and he liked it that I remembered that his wife's name is Patty and we had a good visit. And now there's a huge road going down to the Holt's, with a beautiful new culvert, and the foundation is dug. Big excitement in the neighborhood.

And it's election time. After my chiropractor's appointment tonight I buy the makings for meatloaf so that tomorrow night I can cook dinner for Bill and Ken. This is what we do on Election Night. Bill likes to vote in Black Brook, where he owns property, so he drives out after work, then goes to Ken's, where I cook dinner. We've done this before and we all enjoy the opportunity for a weeknight dinner together. It'll be a nice change. My book group was postponed from Thursday to Tuesday but I can't go because of these plans. I haven't finished the book anyway. I'm stuck about half way through and am taking a break. I hope to finish it, it really is good but it's like quicksand or deep mud, plodding along through it.

Work is pretty quiet. We had a big meeting Friday afternoon. Setting System goals. I would have thought the director would lead the meeting but she didn't. No one would take charge, so I did. I hate that, that's how I get the reputation for being bossy, but I hate a meeting where nothing happens and everyone sits around staring at the floor. We got the work done, got some good goals set. Now all we need to do is get the board to approve them.

Lots of cataloging to do this week. I'm working on Schroon Lake's audiobooks but should probably switch to working on the online library's stuff, since it's been a month since I've done any of their things. We just had two more libraries sign automation contracts (Lake Placid and Peru) so that's two more collections to convert. LP is converted, they did their own several years ago and have been conscientious about keeping up with it. Peru, on the other hand, will require some work. At least I weeded that collection last year so it's in pretty good shape, and it's a relatively small collection. This month the automation consultant and I are to travel to all the libraries who have signed contracts and set up conversion plans with them, then strategies for going online. Can I stand to spend that much time with her? Guess I'll have to. She's ok, just thinks in an entirely different way. Sometimes I feel as if she and the director just like to suck the thoughts, imagination and ability out of my skull and use it to their advantage. They usually take credit for my work, but I don't really care--what I do makes the work of my department simpler and facilitates its getting done.