One of the great things about living where I live and how I live is that I can go out on my deck, stark naked at 8 o'clock at night and bang two dog dishes together really loudly for as long as I want to to call in the brown girls. No one cares that I'm naked and no one cares how much noise I make. Plus, that's a real sign of spring: I'm outside at night, in bare feet and bareass and its NOT THAT COLD. Of course, 40 isn't exactly warm, but I was barefoot on my deck and there was no snow. Miracle of miracles. And of course the dogs came running up the driveway, as they always do when they hear metal on metal. They are really cute when they come running side by side like that, like a team of horses.
And mud season has arrived. I won't be driving to the house for a while. I almost got stuck last night when I got home from work, got buried well into my tires by the house. There's still snow in the yard and the woods, but the driveway is thawing. Huge mud wallow in front of the house and at the bottom of the driveway. So I hauled out my Wellies and slogged on down this morning, inhaling the dampness of the snow melting. I love the smell of early spring but it's really hard on my asthma. Good over bad, though, I enjoy it enough to overcome the wheezing. Scissors cut paper.
I think Ken and I have reached the saturation point with each other. We have run out of things to say. We sit in silence for part of the evening. I'm tapped, completely tapped. We recount the events of the day (how much can I say about which audio books I cataloged for Saranac Lake?), talk about the pope's feeding tube and Terry Schiavo, still alive. I did finally ask him why it would be all right to remove HIS feeding tube if he were in her state (Fla.)(no, vegetative) but it's not all right to remove hers. He said I was right, there is no difference between the two situations. Tonight I expect to hear more on this, he will mull it over all day in his solitude.
This weekend we turn our clocks ahead to what Ken calls "Fast Time." I can't believe how light it will be, since it's already light until nearly 7 o'clock now. It seems that spring is coming really quickly. Ken saw a chipmunk already, and it's really early. The lake is getting dark, which means the ice is getting thinner. The sun is high in the sky and warm, very warm. I don't have a fire every night (although it does get cold in the living room, I admit--I'm just really tired of building fires). The dogs have wanderlust. If I let him, Jackson disappears for hours every night. Last night I walked him on a leash twice when he needed to pee and poop. He thought that was really, really queer, but he made his potty like a good boy.
And of course Henry is always in my thoughts. Driving to and from work I think back to last year, what he was going through, what we were all going through. It was awful, and who could believe that he would die. Not my brother, so full of life and so determined in all he did. There are so many times when I still can't believe he's dead, when he's so alive to me. What an amazing person he really was.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Back in the land of the working/living. Went to Rhode Island, survived the trip, health actually improved while I was there. Since we rarely do much more than sit around the living room and visit (and drink wine, Limoncello and eat) it wasn't a strenuous trip and I did manage to recuperate from my bronchitis. I called my doctor, who scolded me for going back to work, but said it would take me a long time to feel better. She was right. Now I'm still coughing and snorting (like a horse, no?) but am on the road to recovery. Have 2 more doses of antibiotics left.
Rhode Island was peaceful, not sad as I expected. I am doing all right during this time. I apparently did my mourning, had a depressive episode last month. And what an episode it was. Now I feel ok, I can think of my brother without crying, can remember the wonderful things we did together, the wonderful things he did for me and the joy he brought me. We spent a week together one Thanksgiving when Jenica was in college--he drove out in his truck, came early and stayed at my house, just the two of us. It was the year he began sculpting the landscape around my home. I went to work on Monday morning and told him he could cut down any and as many trees as he wanted. "REALLY?! No one ever said that to me before!" When I came home I was appalled at what I saw: a big huge bare space. He was really nervous about what I'd say, and he asked what I thought. It looks great! I said, I'd never let him know what I really thought, that too many trees were down. "If you live on top of a hill you should have a view," he said. "You should be able to see Whiteface, Catamount, Douglas and Silver Lake Mountain." The next day I went to work again, wishing him good luck and lots of fun. Gradually his sculpting took shape and by the end of the week my land looked wonderful, beautiful, with a spectacular view of the mountains--something I'd never envisioned. I didn't realize I had that view, but he knew it was there. There was one tree, though, that he couldn't cut--it would land on the power line. Boy how that pine tree drove us both crazy over the years. As the years passed he continued to fine-tune the view, always cutting a tree here, a tree there, and I always told him he could cut as many trees as he wanted. I loved watching him cut trees--it was truly one of the great joys of his life.
And now I'm back from my mother's house and I can report that she is doing all right. Her snow is melting fast and the daffodils are up about 5 inches, her snowdrops are in bloom and I saw a crocus blooming as well. She's got a lot more spring than we do here. There's still no bare ground around my house but I'm starting to have problems getting up my driveway, there's mud at the bottom. The driveway is the first to go in mud season. I had a nice Easter with Liza and Mark. We went to inspect the town beach, amid rumors that it had shrunk terribly with the storms of fall and winter. Well, there's not much of it left at high tide. The ocean was beautiful, a deep, deep blue, and it was a clear day. You could see Block Island, Point Judith and there were gentle waves (and a loon!). But the beach was definitely missing. The last time this happened the town trucked in a lot of sand to create a new beach. Let's see what they do this year. As Liza says, there are plenty of beaches for us to go to.
I boarded Jackson while I was gone and when he got home he barked to be let in, barked to be fed then climbed on the couch and went to sleep as if the whole episode had been a dream. Funny boy. The brown girls had a grand visit to Liza's. Tess and Liza's dog adore each other and tear the house apart playing--they rough house and we let them do it for as long as we can stand it before throwing them in the pen. Someone ate half of the dead fish from the pond but it wasn't my dogs, they didn't have time. So far there were 2 dead fish, don't know about fish #3. Big fish.
And Ken missed me while I was gone, he said it 3 times. "It's just not right when you're not here in the neighborhood." We had a good visit last night and caught up on the news. Terry Schiavo and the Pope are still alive. He collected $4 more for the iceout pool. Our friends the Holts were here for the weekend with the plans for their new house--they plan to start construction this summer. Ken and I are back on track, I'll stop there tonight.
And now work beckons. Catalog that iron mining collection for Port Henry.
Rhode Island was peaceful, not sad as I expected. I am doing all right during this time. I apparently did my mourning, had a depressive episode last month. And what an episode it was. Now I feel ok, I can think of my brother without crying, can remember the wonderful things we did together, the wonderful things he did for me and the joy he brought me. We spent a week together one Thanksgiving when Jenica was in college--he drove out in his truck, came early and stayed at my house, just the two of us. It was the year he began sculpting the landscape around my home. I went to work on Monday morning and told him he could cut down any and as many trees as he wanted. "REALLY?! No one ever said that to me before!" When I came home I was appalled at what I saw: a big huge bare space. He was really nervous about what I'd say, and he asked what I thought. It looks great! I said, I'd never let him know what I really thought, that too many trees were down. "If you live on top of a hill you should have a view," he said. "You should be able to see Whiteface, Catamount, Douglas and Silver Lake Mountain." The next day I went to work again, wishing him good luck and lots of fun. Gradually his sculpting took shape and by the end of the week my land looked wonderful, beautiful, with a spectacular view of the mountains--something I'd never envisioned. I didn't realize I had that view, but he knew it was there. There was one tree, though, that he couldn't cut--it would land on the power line. Boy how that pine tree drove us both crazy over the years. As the years passed he continued to fine-tune the view, always cutting a tree here, a tree there, and I always told him he could cut as many trees as he wanted. I loved watching him cut trees--it was truly one of the great joys of his life.
And now I'm back from my mother's house and I can report that she is doing all right. Her snow is melting fast and the daffodils are up about 5 inches, her snowdrops are in bloom and I saw a crocus blooming as well. She's got a lot more spring than we do here. There's still no bare ground around my house but I'm starting to have problems getting up my driveway, there's mud at the bottom. The driveway is the first to go in mud season. I had a nice Easter with Liza and Mark. We went to inspect the town beach, amid rumors that it had shrunk terribly with the storms of fall and winter. Well, there's not much of it left at high tide. The ocean was beautiful, a deep, deep blue, and it was a clear day. You could see Block Island, Point Judith and there were gentle waves (and a loon!). But the beach was definitely missing. The last time this happened the town trucked in a lot of sand to create a new beach. Let's see what they do this year. As Liza says, there are plenty of beaches for us to go to.
I boarded Jackson while I was gone and when he got home he barked to be let in, barked to be fed then climbed on the couch and went to sleep as if the whole episode had been a dream. Funny boy. The brown girls had a grand visit to Liza's. Tess and Liza's dog adore each other and tear the house apart playing--they rough house and we let them do it for as long as we can stand it before throwing them in the pen. Someone ate half of the dead fish from the pond but it wasn't my dogs, they didn't have time. So far there were 2 dead fish, don't know about fish #3. Big fish.
And Ken missed me while I was gone, he said it 3 times. "It's just not right when you're not here in the neighborhood." We had a good visit last night and caught up on the news. Terry Schiavo and the Pope are still alive. He collected $4 more for the iceout pool. Our friends the Holts were here for the weekend with the plans for their new house--they plan to start construction this summer. Ken and I are back on track, I'll stop there tonight.
And now work beckons. Catalog that iron mining collection for Port Henry.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
And now I'm back at work, day 2 of that. The nurse practictitioner/PA/whatever I saw said I should call today if I weren't feeling better. How much better should I be feeling? is the question of the day. I'm still coughing and my ears are still congested. So I did what my mother told me (at least 5 times) to do when I spoke to her last night: I called the doctor's office. They will call me back to tell me what to do. The receptionist seemed to think that 4 days of antibiotics should have had more of an effect. Perhaps, who knows. Anyway, I can't get to work before 10:15 because I can't get to sleep before 1:30 and therefore can't get up anywhere near 6:30. Last night Jackson was outside for 4.5 hours, from 11:30 to 4. In my illness/sleepy/dream-tainted haze between 3:30 and 4 I had him gone from my life for good (what 13 year old dog can be gone during the night for that many hours and still return? Oh how lucky am I to have an indestructible dog, a wanderer who takes long, meandering walks in the early spring nights). Well, it was a good thought while it lasted.
So today I feel...crummy but not horrible. My brother's "situation" of last year of course is a weight I'm carrying right now, as are we all. I seem to have had my intense reaction for the past few weeks and am now coming out from under it. As Ken says, it will always be with me and I will never get over it. I suppose the hardest part is ahead of me: visiting with my mother this weekend for Easter. It's always hard for me to be at her house, where Henry and I shared a lot of really nice visits. I miss him a lot when I'm there. But I feel strong, happy with my life, able to cope, optimistic about spring (oh the power of the weather) and ready to enjoy things. I just feel sick, that's all.
And, miracle of miracles, there's real progress in the healing of Ken's foot! Two of the wounds have healed completely, as of last night. He and I were thrilled. Two down, one to go. We had our dinner together last night and a nice visit. I took Tess instead of Chances, and boy was Chances pissed! Tess behaved much better than she normally does, slept the whole time, which really impressed Ken. And me. Anyway, we're both feeling great relief about this and are hopeful for more progress.
And now I'll catalog more crap for the Port Henry library.
So today I feel...crummy but not horrible. My brother's "situation" of last year of course is a weight I'm carrying right now, as are we all. I seem to have had my intense reaction for the past few weeks and am now coming out from under it. As Ken says, it will always be with me and I will never get over it. I suppose the hardest part is ahead of me: visiting with my mother this weekend for Easter. It's always hard for me to be at her house, where Henry and I shared a lot of really nice visits. I miss him a lot when I'm there. But I feel strong, happy with my life, able to cope, optimistic about spring (oh the power of the weather) and ready to enjoy things. I just feel sick, that's all.
And, miracle of miracles, there's real progress in the healing of Ken's foot! Two of the wounds have healed completely, as of last night. He and I were thrilled. Two down, one to go. We had our dinner together last night and a nice visit. I took Tess instead of Chances, and boy was Chances pissed! Tess behaved much better than she normally does, slept the whole time, which really impressed Ken. And me. Anyway, we're both feeling great relief about this and are hopeful for more progress.
And now I'll catalog more crap for the Port Henry library.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Home sick, day 2. Been sick for nearly a week, got worse over the weekend so (to my sister's relief) went to the doctor yesterday. Have bronchitis, an ear infection and of course, problems with asthma. Got 6 meds to work with, including antibiotics, prednisone, Robitussion with codeine (which does NOT, despite her promises, help me sleep, but it does quiet my cough), 2 inhalers and a decongestant. So now I'm set. Went to the grocery store yesterday to set in supplies but had to go back to town today to have oil changed and tires rotated on car. That took a long time but I read, drank coffee and relaxed in their spiffy new headquarters and didn't feel quite as ill as yesterday. Read an article in that fine scientific journal People about the author of The power of now, who says you should focus not on the past or the future, but on the moment at hand (live in the now, sound familiar, Baby Boomers?). Focus on each breath, notice its temperature. Notice the things in nature without identifying or categorizing them (that's a tough one for me). So I will try these and will order his book for the library system and take a look at it.
I'm listening to John Grisham's latest book, The broker. I really liked that last one I listened to, about life in a small town in the American south. So far this one has had 5 murders and I'm on the fourth CD. This one I like not so much, but one of the characters has been put in witness protection in northern Italy and his observations about Italian culture are interesting. For example, he thinks Italians haven't really mastered the American concept of waiting in line one person behind the other. Also, in Europe he feels that, contrary to America, space is not to be protected but shared. This is true in restaurants, in conversations, etc. I thought these two things were interesting and pretty good for Grisham.
So today is another mid-40's and blindingly bright sunny day. Snow is slowly melting (Ken says the melting is taking place from the bottom up). It feels more like early April than March, but this is the time of year when the weather CANNOT be trusted. Dogs haven't been hit with spring fever yet. Wish I felt better, I'd be walking them. The quality of the sun is so great, much brighter than the winter sun. I want to buy pansies, though, and that won't happen for a long, long time. I'll begin the search for pussy willows.
And the treatment of Ken's foot continues. It's looking better at last--I can see progress and healing. On Friday I'm due to go to RI for 4 days (I should feel well enough by then) and he'll be without me on Sat. and Sun. (I agreed to stop on my way out Friday and on my way home Monday). Last night he told me he'd miss me while I was gone. I find that hard to believe, I've been terrible company lately, I feel so lousy and am not great at conversation. Hopefully tonight I'll be a little livelier.
I'm listening to John Grisham's latest book, The broker. I really liked that last one I listened to, about life in a small town in the American south. So far this one has had 5 murders and I'm on the fourth CD. This one I like not so much, but one of the characters has been put in witness protection in northern Italy and his observations about Italian culture are interesting. For example, he thinks Italians haven't really mastered the American concept of waiting in line one person behind the other. Also, in Europe he feels that, contrary to America, space is not to be protected but shared. This is true in restaurants, in conversations, etc. I thought these two things were interesting and pretty good for Grisham.
So today is another mid-40's and blindingly bright sunny day. Snow is slowly melting (Ken says the melting is taking place from the bottom up). It feels more like early April than March, but this is the time of year when the weather CANNOT be trusted. Dogs haven't been hit with spring fever yet. Wish I felt better, I'd be walking them. The quality of the sun is so great, much brighter than the winter sun. I want to buy pansies, though, and that won't happen for a long, long time. I'll begin the search for pussy willows.
And the treatment of Ken's foot continues. It's looking better at last--I can see progress and healing. On Friday I'm due to go to RI for 4 days (I should feel well enough by then) and he'll be without me on Sat. and Sun. (I agreed to stop on my way out Friday and on my way home Monday). Last night he told me he'd miss me while I was gone. I find that hard to believe, I've been terrible company lately, I feel so lousy and am not great at conversation. Hopefully tonight I'll be a little livelier.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Busy week. Weekend was just a weekend, nothing special. Sunday dinner as usual. Saturday spent relaxing, did the smallest amount of cleaning I could do. Monday was a regular work day. Tuesday I went to Albany to lobby with my state legislators for increased library funding (or at least no more cuts). I used to do this trip every year but have managed to escape being tapped on the shoulder to go for the past 5 or so years. This year, however, the director assigned me the task of organizing the CEF contingent. I could only muster 4 other bodies, and that was by imposing on my friends. We left our homes by 6:30, got to Albany for our first appointment at 10:00, second appointment at 10:30, last at 11:30. Met with all three who represent our patrons in Albany, explained how important what we do is to society, the world, etc. It actually went pretty well this year. I think it's pretty funny that people turn to me to speak, to lead, to be in control. WHY? Anyway, I spoke, I lead, I wasn't really in control since there were others there from our neighboring library systems, plus our previous director and the school librarian from Lake Placid. We stopped for lunch in Saratoga, hoping to have crepes in a restaurant that Julie and I discovered during a conference, but lo, it was closed on Tuesdays, so we ate instead at the Indian restaurant we had eaten at during a different conference. It was good, we were all buoyed by our boldness and sense of accomplishment at dealing with our legislators. Got home by 5:30, went to Ken's (am still treating his foot daily).
Wednesday I discovered I have a cold, settled in my chest and throat so that I sound terrible. Slight fever but don't feel too awful. Had to go to Lake Placid to begin the barcoding process. Again, why do people wait for me before beginning? I was late getting there, met the 2 people from CEF who participated, plus about 6 volunteers and staff from the library there. They were all waiting for me ("HERE she is!") and my instructions. The 2 from CEF have barcoded before, are perfectly capable of taking over the process and instruction. I instructed, was cheerleader to all and away we went. There I was, in my ex-husband's home town, where he had, the day before, BEEN ELECTED MAYOR. Hard to believe that the man I married in 1985, who was barely literate and needed incredible amounts of coaching in the art of public speaking, office politics, reading newspapers, etc., is now the mayor of his home town. But I suppose stranger things have happened. I told the retired librarian there, whom I've known for 20 years, that I taught him all he knows. Then I laughed and said of course that's not true (but we all know it's pretty close to the truth). So we barcoded all day and they fed us lunch. I stayed until 4, others left at 3. Got a lot done, rewarded myself with a shopping trip to the Bass outlet store across the street, wooed by the huge SALE! sign in the window. Bought 2 pairs of shoes, socks, new wallet and a t-shirt (which they inadvertently didn't charge me for, I discovered when I got home). I need no more pairs of shoes but sometimes, when they're on sale, I hear a voice in my head instructing me to buy, buy, buy. You'll never be sorry you bought them, only that you didn't. Oh, that's just not true.
Yesterday I woke, barely able to speak. Didn't feel that bad but had a fever so stayed home. Slept from 10-2, spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the couch watching tv with the dogs (yes, Tess watches tv). Went to Ken's, felt lousy enough to fail at making conversation, the poor man. When I finally was able to extricate myself from his house he said "Oh, are you leaving now?" I thought he'd be happy to be rid of me, I was such poor company. But I realize that ANY company is better than being alone for him, and he's always hoping I'll perk up. I'll try to do better tonight.
So today I slept in, came to work at 10 and here I am, 1.5 hrs. later, having accomplished very little. Must drop off prescription, pay bills online (is that why I came to work--because I have to go to the drug store, which is in Pbg., and because there's a better connection here than I have at home?), will try to get a little work done. I have a slight fever but don't feel terrible. Bad enough so that if I stayed home I wouldn't be doing anything anyway and I'm behind in my work here, much worthless crap to catalog for the Port Henry library. Phone calls to return. I hate that, though, because I sound so bad, croaky, that everyone will want to have a conversation with me about how sick I must be.
The weather has been wonderful, early-spring perfect. 30's and sunny, great for slow melting of snow. It was cold and crisp this morning, with the smell of spring (what I could smell, plugged up that I am). We're having a good March, lucky this year. No big snows this year, done for now with sub-zeros. The days are long and the sun is bright and warm. I agree with Molly that winter is over, but we're in limbo between winter and spring. We have this in-between season that no one else would recognize. Can't really say it's spring, there's no discernible sign of anything spring-like, like buds on trees--but sometimes you can find pussy willows. The snow is melting, though, and has a revolting crust on top. This is a good thing, a very good thing. The chickadees are making their spring song, totally different from their winter chick-a-dee-dee-dee. We like to hear this.
Wednesday I discovered I have a cold, settled in my chest and throat so that I sound terrible. Slight fever but don't feel too awful. Had to go to Lake Placid to begin the barcoding process. Again, why do people wait for me before beginning? I was late getting there, met the 2 people from CEF who participated, plus about 6 volunteers and staff from the library there. They were all waiting for me ("HERE she is!") and my instructions. The 2 from CEF have barcoded before, are perfectly capable of taking over the process and instruction. I instructed, was cheerleader to all and away we went. There I was, in my ex-husband's home town, where he had, the day before, BEEN ELECTED MAYOR. Hard to believe that the man I married in 1985, who was barely literate and needed incredible amounts of coaching in the art of public speaking, office politics, reading newspapers, etc., is now the mayor of his home town. But I suppose stranger things have happened. I told the retired librarian there, whom I've known for 20 years, that I taught him all he knows. Then I laughed and said of course that's not true (but we all know it's pretty close to the truth). So we barcoded all day and they fed us lunch. I stayed until 4, others left at 3. Got a lot done, rewarded myself with a shopping trip to the Bass outlet store across the street, wooed by the huge SALE! sign in the window. Bought 2 pairs of shoes, socks, new wallet and a t-shirt (which they inadvertently didn't charge me for, I discovered when I got home). I need no more pairs of shoes but sometimes, when they're on sale, I hear a voice in my head instructing me to buy, buy, buy. You'll never be sorry you bought them, only that you didn't. Oh, that's just not true.
Yesterday I woke, barely able to speak. Didn't feel that bad but had a fever so stayed home. Slept from 10-2, spent the rest of the afternoon lying on the couch watching tv with the dogs (yes, Tess watches tv). Went to Ken's, felt lousy enough to fail at making conversation, the poor man. When I finally was able to extricate myself from his house he said "Oh, are you leaving now?" I thought he'd be happy to be rid of me, I was such poor company. But I realize that ANY company is better than being alone for him, and he's always hoping I'll perk up. I'll try to do better tonight.
So today I slept in, came to work at 10 and here I am, 1.5 hrs. later, having accomplished very little. Must drop off prescription, pay bills online (is that why I came to work--because I have to go to the drug store, which is in Pbg., and because there's a better connection here than I have at home?), will try to get a little work done. I have a slight fever but don't feel terrible. Bad enough so that if I stayed home I wouldn't be doing anything anyway and I'm behind in my work here, much worthless crap to catalog for the Port Henry library. Phone calls to return. I hate that, though, because I sound so bad, croaky, that everyone will want to have a conversation with me about how sick I must be.
The weather has been wonderful, early-spring perfect. 30's and sunny, great for slow melting of snow. It was cold and crisp this morning, with the smell of spring (what I could smell, plugged up that I am). We're having a good March, lucky this year. No big snows this year, done for now with sub-zeros. The days are long and the sun is bright and warm. I agree with Molly that winter is over, but we're in limbo between winter and spring. We have this in-between season that no one else would recognize. Can't really say it's spring, there's no discernible sign of anything spring-like, like buds on trees--but sometimes you can find pussy willows. The snow is melting, though, and has a revolting crust on top. This is a good thing, a very good thing. The chickadees are making their spring song, totally different from their winter chick-a-dee-dee-dee. We like to hear this.
Friday, March 11, 2005
This morning I went to the Chamber of Commerce's Legislative Breakfast. Our three state representatives were there and all three spoke. Our State Senator is a 60+ woman, who is well-spoken, incredibly well-informed about the issues and is a fantastic person to have representing us in Albany. I was really impressed and so happy to hear her. I was sitting about 6 feet away from the podium so this was really cool. My Assemblyman is someone who is a close friend of the family of my ex-husband and I've known him for dozens of years. He was always a bit pompous but now he has risen to new heights of pomposity. In November he was re-elected by such a narrow margin that they waited until the absentee ballots were counted before declaring him the winner. You'd never know it to hear him speak now, just a few months later. Like our President, he seems to feel his re-election was a mandate from the people. The third speaker was an Assemblywoman from Essex County, our poorer relative to the south, who is a "commoner" and sounds and acts like one. Everyone was surprised when she got elected, I think she's from a farm background. She sounds as if she's trying really hard but doesn't quite grasp the concept of state government. Nice to have two women up there, though. And I had a nice breakfast. It was at the Holiday Inn and--get this, they ran out of coffee cups at the buffet. What a pisser.
So my mood is good today, a rare thing these days. I made it to the breakfast by 7:40, not bad for me. It started at 7:30 but the speakers didn't speak until about 8:00. I didn't really know anyone there, just a few people and they didn't sit at my table. A lot of men in suits, all businessmen. ugh.
Am still enjoying my visits with Ken, he and I are resigned to making this foot thing be a nice experience for both of us. We laugh and talk a lot about current events. He had the caretaker for one of the camps he's wanted to check on visiting him yesterday when I got there ("Elizabeth, you're right on time--you said you'd be here at 5 and you are!"). Robert had already been to the Hord's and all was well there so Ken was pleased. It's frustrating for him not to get to the places he likes to check on during the winter but he's being a really good sport about it.
Tonight I'll go grocery shopping and to the liquor store. Get Ken a backup bottle of Southern Comfort, he's almost out. Myself a bottle of dry vermouth for my drinks, and a bottle of wine for Sunday. That'll be the highlight of my getting out and about, then I'll head home for the weekend. We might be getting a storm tomorrow, but I think they decided it would hit the eastern shore of Lake Champlain so we'll be ok in Hawkeye. GOOD! Let's get rid of our snow, not get more. Like Jenica, I'm sick of winter and really itching for spring.
I need to watch my videos this weekend. I still haven't seen Garden State, have had the library's copy for weeks and weeks. I have 3 videos from Blockbuster.com that I've had so long I don't even remember what they are. This is like an assignment for myself. I don't have to clean much, did enough of that last weekend preparing for company, and didn't mess up much during the week. If I were the type, I'd make a public declaration that I'm going to do my taxes this weekend and that would be enough of a commitment to make me do it. Doesn't work that way for me, though, I won't be embarrassed if I say I'm going to do them and don't. I should at least look to see if I'll have to pay or get a refund--that might make a difference in my attitude toward the task.
What I really need to do this weekend is walk the dogs. Yes, that's what I'll do. They're soooo tired of my spending time at Ken's. If they were children they'd be wetting the bed (wait--one of them sometimes does!) and whining (wait--one of them always does!). What the third ones does is chew things, and Chances has reverted to some chewing behavior as well. Swell.
So my mood is good today, a rare thing these days. I made it to the breakfast by 7:40, not bad for me. It started at 7:30 but the speakers didn't speak until about 8:00. I didn't really know anyone there, just a few people and they didn't sit at my table. A lot of men in suits, all businessmen. ugh.
Am still enjoying my visits with Ken, he and I are resigned to making this foot thing be a nice experience for both of us. We laugh and talk a lot about current events. He had the caretaker for one of the camps he's wanted to check on visiting him yesterday when I got there ("Elizabeth, you're right on time--you said you'd be here at 5 and you are!"). Robert had already been to the Hord's and all was well there so Ken was pleased. It's frustrating for him not to get to the places he likes to check on during the winter but he's being a really good sport about it.
Tonight I'll go grocery shopping and to the liquor store. Get Ken a backup bottle of Southern Comfort, he's almost out. Myself a bottle of dry vermouth for my drinks, and a bottle of wine for Sunday. That'll be the highlight of my getting out and about, then I'll head home for the weekend. We might be getting a storm tomorrow, but I think they decided it would hit the eastern shore of Lake Champlain so we'll be ok in Hawkeye. GOOD! Let's get rid of our snow, not get more. Like Jenica, I'm sick of winter and really itching for spring.
I need to watch my videos this weekend. I still haven't seen Garden State, have had the library's copy for weeks and weeks. I have 3 videos from Blockbuster.com that I've had so long I don't even remember what they are. This is like an assignment for myself. I don't have to clean much, did enough of that last weekend preparing for company, and didn't mess up much during the week. If I were the type, I'd make a public declaration that I'm going to do my taxes this weekend and that would be enough of a commitment to make me do it. Doesn't work that way for me, though, I won't be embarrassed if I say I'm going to do them and don't. I should at least look to see if I'll have to pay or get a refund--that might make a difference in my attitude toward the task.
What I really need to do this weekend is walk the dogs. Yes, that's what I'll do. They're soooo tired of my spending time at Ken's. If they were children they'd be wetting the bed (wait--one of them sometimes does!) and whining (wait--one of them always does!). What the third ones does is chew things, and Chances has reverted to some chewing behavior as well. Swell.
He... Helium. You scored 15 Mass, 5 Electronegativity, 5 Metal, and 0 Radioactivity! |
That's odd, our tests indicate that you did not just take this test. In fact, we're not even sure you exist. Oh, wait, no, somebody just found indirect evidence of you in the deep Earth and in the Sun. Okay, so you're real, but man, you need to get out more. Actually, you're pretty cool, always doing your own thing, but we kinda wish that you would interact with us a bit more. On a positive note, I think some research lab in Berkeley has managed to put you into a psuedo-stable relationship that, if you're kept very cold, you won't walk away from... or maybe that was Xenon. I forget. |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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