The sun is shining and it's a gorgeous morning. I'm supposed to be spending this time cleaning and organizing my home but so far I've been doing very little of that. Yesterday I relaxed. The Little Brown Dog figured out how to unroll toilet paper next to the toilet so the house looked worse at the end of the day than it did at the beginning of the day. Today I'm slightly more motivated to clean so perhaps I will actually do something. I did some work by email yesterday so I should give myself credit for that. It was cloudy, cold and gray, which I thought make it a good day to clean but I was wrong.

The cast of characters in Hawkeye so far includes:
My friends Linda and Erdvilas. I had dinner and a lot to drink with them last night. They brought delicious ginger wine. Sounds yucky but boy was it good.
My cousin Elsa. She left a phone message for me. Have not seen her yet.
My friends Rush and Annie. They left a phone message for me. Have not seen them yet.
The crazy lesbians from Baltimore. They were supposed to get here yesterday afternoon but called Ken to say they were leaving B'more at 2:40 p.m. Goofy women.

I will have dinner invitations aplenty and Linda is cooking Sunday dinner tomorrow (YES! a pork roast!). It will be great to see Rush and Annie. Elsa, well, she's my cousin. The women from Maryland are very nice but a bit of a strain. They'll be here all week, as will Linda, so I'll have time to see them. They stay in a cabin Ken owns, with no running water. They are just very strange.

Tess climbed the bluffs with some strangers yesterday. She was gone for 2 hours and came back breathless but very pleased. I thought she just did that sort of thing if Chances was with her, but I was wrong. Now I can't let her out unsupervised at all. These dogs are not behaving well.

I've starting collecting National Lampoons. So far I've "won" about 6 on eBay. I got the one I really wanted, the travel issue. I haven't totaled up how much it's cost me yet, I'm just having fun collecting something at last. Bill says he has a bunch of them because he collected things that represented popular culture. He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world--of course he would have that! I had a full run of them too, an avid subscriber was I in the 70's when the magazine was really funny.

So off I must go, time to be productive. First I'll eat yogurt. Yes, the return of yogurt to my life. I got so sick of it I haven't eaten any in years but now it appeals to me again. Go figure.
The list of tasks I hope to get done is really, really long. So far I have shampooed the couch. Yea me! I can at least vacuum the living room floor. I must attack the library today, it is really my main objective for these 5 days. Wish me luck.

Tired tonight, spent the day traveling and ended up back where I started from. Went to A meeting in Alex Bay, on the St. Lawrence, leaving home at 5:45 and returning almost 12 hours later. It was a good meeting, speaker I'd heard many years before on more or less the same topic--Trends in Library Technology. He was pretty good at calling the shots in the past, so let's see how he compares now. Interesting notions which I'm too tired to dredge up right now. I've been listening to this man since I worked in RI. But it was a pretty day, with a nice view of Boldt Castle during lunch and I got to sit with people I really like and have been appointed to the Automation Committee, which is sort of an honor.

We stopped at Jenica's and my favorite spot on the way home, the farm stand in Nicholville (or wherever it is). I found great annuals and bought $32 worth of stuff that I can't find anywhere near Plattsburgh. Nemesia, diaschia, evening phlox, nierembergia and the most beautiful violas ever, they look like a painting of pale orange and magenta.

I got home to relax for a few minutes, then Ken called to say they were finished cutting down trees and my drink was waiting for me so I went to his house. Bill was there and so was Stevie, the man who's going to build my deck and has now become the neighborhood's Number One man. So the 4 of us hung out for a while, drinking our whiskies, shooting the shit, having a really nice time. What a nice group. Bill was really pleased to have participated in bringing down two huge birch trees. I was just happy to be with normal, intelligent and caring people.

I have been trying to set up a meeting with Jamie, the ex-husband. I thought it was time to make it easier to be in the same room so suggested that we meet face-to-face. I had ground rules, mostly about alcohol. He didn't like what I said and now refuses to meet with me. So I emailed him that my answer for the inevitable question of "How do you and he get along?" will have to be "I get along fine with him but he can't stand me. He refuses to see me." My email wasn't quite like that but I did ask him why he didn't want to see me. What's the matter, big boy, afraid of what you might find out? Well, that's it for now. I can ignore him at his wedding just as easily as he ignored me at my brother's funeral. Heck I could even bring a date to ignore him too.

So this is the beginning of my big break from work. Weather due to be sort of crummy for the whole 5 days, which is just as well because I'll be more productive indoors if I'm not tempted to sit outside in the sun. I have my long, optimistic list of duties. I'll try to get an early start tomorrow. Linda will be here so I'll have to take lots of breaks to visit with her. That will involve alcohol but I'll try to rise above it.

And now I have a fire in the fireplace because it's 46 outside. Tomorrow I hope to get some containers planted. I think I have nearly enough flowers to plant but I have to get more coleus because it was ALL killed by frost and I need to get cukes, tomatoes and seed potatoes for Ken anyway. Wish me luck

down the hall

down the hall
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

Dogs in a trunk

Dogs in a trunk
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

Ice almost out

Ice almost out
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

Just a little ice, mid-April

Ready for book group

Ready for book group
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

View from my bed

View from my bed
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

photo show

photo show
Originally uploaded by woodsrun.

Here's my latest photo display. The one with the flash reflected on it is one taken by Jamie's brother when I was 22.

Today's song: Groovy kind of love by Wayne Fontana and the Mindbenders. I had the 45 rpm record, it had a pale blue label that I watched go round and round on the record player. I think I was in 7th grade at Lincoln Junior high school when I listened to this.

When I'm feeling blue,
all I have to do
Is take a look at you,
then I'm not so blue

When you're close to me,
I can feel your heart beat
I can hear you breathing near my ear
Wouldn't you agree,
baby you and me
got a groovy kind of love

Anytime you want to
you can turn me on to
Anything you want to,
anytime at all
When I kiss your lips,
ooh I start to shiver
Can't control the quivering inside
Wouldn't you agree,
baby you and me
got a groovy kind of love

When I'm feeling blue,
all I have to do
Is take a look at you,
then I'm not so blue
When I'm in your arms,
nothing seems to matter
My whole world could shatter,
I don't care
Wouldn't you agree,
baby you and me
got a groovy kind of love

We got a groovy kind of love
We got a groovy kind of love
We got a groovy kind of love

So THIS is what I was raised on as the ideal of love, this is what it was supposed to be like when you found someone to love, someone to share your life with. You know, Barbie and Ken. You and me against the world. Not you and the world against me! Thus I struggled through many relationships, searching for the perfect combination of passion and the feeling of the person who was my soulmate. I found the passion, but matching it up with the best match for me was always the hitch. I would find what I thought would be a good match, but he'd turn out to be an alcoholic or something like that.

Oh well, now I have me and I seem to be a great match for myself as a soulmate and partner to get through life with.

So this morning I heard a song by Johnny Rivers, a forgetable singer from the past. It wouldn't be surprising if no one remembered him. My sister and I saw him at the first concert we ever went to. It was during the days when a number of singers & rock groups would tour together. This one was in a small venue, the gym of the catholic high school. We went because we were dying to hear Chad & Jeremy, a British duo who were very cute and had sweet voices with nice harmonies. Touring with them were Johnny Rivers, Roy Orbison and a forgettable band that had a hit called "My Mighty GTO." My mother, in later years said that when she dropped us off she said to herself "What have I done? I'll never see them again." Concerts were different then, though. I think we wore dresses and everyone sat in folding chairs in the gym, very well behaved, never standing up, clapping politely after each song. No smoking of anything. This must have been around 1966 or 1967. We were thrilled and LOVED Chad & Jeremy. We got to sit really, really close to the stage. At least that's how I remember it. Maybe my sister can embellish this.

So I'm listening to Light my fire, Jim Morrison's voice right in the middle of my brain because of the way my earphones work, and I'm riding down Route 6 in Wellfleet, Mass. in my father's silver Buick with my brother at the wheel, windows open, hot air flying into the car. It's night and we're just driving to get out of the house for a while. My grandmother and grandfather are in the house, my father is there, so nasty politics is thick in the air: neither side can avoid the nasty sniping. It's the Vietnam era and my brother is afraid. I won't learn until later how much I mean to him--when I spend the summer away from home he writes me, telling me how much he misses me and I'm surprised to read it. We love our trips to the Cape, they are a time of hot sun, sand, seafood, the ocean and the wonderful fresh water ponds we rinse off in on our way back from the beach. We like going there because our father is happy there, cheerful in a way that we don't always get to see. We all love being near the ocean. So that's where I go when I hear Jim Morrison.

What Your Dreams Mean...

Your dreams seem to show that you're a very well adjusted and happy person. Overall, you are very content in your life. You have a very vivid imagination and a rich creative mind.

What Do Your Dreams Mean?

Who wouldn't want to hear this? I love my dreams. I dream in color, with smells and tastes. I almost always remember my dreams and they're almost always good ones. Lucky me!

Do you believe in rock ’n roll,
Can music save your mortal soul,

Well I just stopped working completely because Don McLean's American Pie came on and I had to listen to it completely, unfettered by cataloging Bruce Catton. I realized how much that song means to me. What it represents. We listened to that song so intently when it came out. Every Thursday night for a semester, driving to our horseback riding class in college, me and my roommate. It was a happy time for us (little did we know what lay ahead for us--unhappy times, complicated times, conflict between us, separation and misunderstanding, and ultimately her death at age 23), we were sailing and loved every minute of those times. We loved the horses, the smell of the stables. We saddled and bridled the horses ourselves, we rode well, we had our favorite mounts, we were happy, really happy. Of course, when we got our grades I got an A and she got a B. It was her only B that semester and she was PISSED. Missed a 4.0 by HORSEBACK RIDING. What did it was the written test on parts of the horse. From my early years with my sister, memorizing everything about horses, I knew all about horses.

So that's Don McLean. There's an entire website devoted to American Pie. Some people take things very seriously. I've taken music seriously in my life, it has defined moments, years, moods for me. It can take me to a place in a matter of notes (I can name that song in 3 notes...). I love the Beatles, there's no richer music. My sister and her boyfriend singing Rocky Raccoon to me when I had the flu in high school, trying to cheer me up. Blind Faith, the Super Group, playing loudly on my raunchy stereo, Ginger Baker banging on his drums, Eric Clapton's velvet voice singing (who knew just how many drugs they were doing). Such great music! CSN&Y and Santana serenading Howard and me, endlessly. I'll skip the coffeehouse music we listened to at Heather on the Moor in Rockford, that really didn't do me much good at the time, just depressed me more than I already was, though some of it was truly wonderful music. Who remembers Leonard Cohen or the Chad Mitchell Trio?

So that's my stroll down Musical Memory Lane. There's more, much more, all those college years of the Allman Brothers and Jackson Brown (of course, those were the years after his wife killed herself and he was REALLY depressing to listen to). And the Kingston Trio years of our youth. Boy, 40 years of music takes you to a lot of places, doesn't it.

Well that's pretty interesting, since I always figured I'd die of disease or accident. Disappearing, huh? I don't think much of that, unless I fall off a cliff and die quickly. Guess I'd better be careful if I go up the bluffs by myself (which I NEVER do--I'm very afraid of disappearing, so maybe this is an sign that I should be extra careful). I do go for walks with my dogs, otherwise alone. What am I supposed to do? I live alone. I think I'm safer doing that where I live than just about anywhere else, though.

So my big news is that I got an invitation to my ex-husband's upcoming wedding. It came in the mail. I thought it was a get-well card, until I saw the return address. Then I shrieked "He invited me to his wedding!" and threw it down. My first thought was that I couldn't possibly stand to go, but the more I thought about it the more I realized that I should probably go, for the sake of family unity. I don't mind going, I don't care that he's getting married or not getting married. The reception is a cocktail party in a really nice restaurant. It's a church wedding (what he wanted our wedding to be), which I really don't like going to. I figure that, if he invited me he must be inviting all the cousins so it would look as if I harbor ill will if I don't go. Of course, I could schedule a trip for that weekend ("I'm sorry--I'll be out of town that weekend; just as soon as I figure out a place to go to"). No, I don't care enough to escape. So anyway, that's my piece of news.

Yesterday I took the day off to take Ken to the doctor in Saranac Lake. His appointment was at 11:30. We left at 10:30 and got home around 12:30. We took the "Upper" Franklin Falls Road home (last time we took the Lower road. The lower road follows the lakes, the upper road follows the mountains. What a sterling day it was. Clear blue sky, tons and tons of shad trees in bloom. It was wonderful. I drove slowly so we could both savor the experience. The mountains were blue and beautiful. He told me the names of the hills and the locations of farms that existed when he was young. Told me he used to walk 4 miles to catechism class on Saturdays when he was a kid. Give me a break. Catholics really are nuts. He said that, in 1885 when his family first arrived in Hawkeye his father was a child. He walked to Alder Brook to catechism, decided he didn't want to be there and ran out of the church. The Irish priest chased him, caught him and told him in heavy Irish brogue that he had to be there. How to make a child resent religion.

I spent the afternoon puttering around. Messing a little with my plants, fussing with paperwork. Puttering, messing and fussing. Took the dogs for a long walk to check on the camps I usually check on. Went down to the water's edge. The far shore is barely showing green. This is a slow, late spring. Colder than normal. Means that we don't have many black flies yet, but neither do we have leaves on trees. OK with me but I wish I could be doing yard work. Haven't really totally healed from my surgery just yet. Almost but not quite. Anyway, my walk was great. The trillium is in bloom, the woods were still and lovely and the dogs had a great time. Tess and Chances swam. You could see the shad in bloom across the lake. There was no one else in the world.

At 6:30 I went to Ken's (I still have to put drops in his eye every night, until the bottles are empty: thank goodness the bottles are small). Bill was there, and so was his cousin Steve, who has become the neighborhood handyman. I asked Steve to give me an estimate on replacing the decking at the front of my house. Ken and I had planned to do it ourselves, but I would so much rather pay someone else to do it, if I can afford it. Steve had his own business doing engine repair, but his garage burned down, then he used the insurance money to build a bigger (much bigger) garage, then the Adirondack Park Agency made him tear it down because he didn't get a permit to build one that was bigger than his original garage, so he lost a whole lot of money and had no business. So he's been without a job for 2 years, supported by his wife. Yesterday he had an interview with Sears to be a service technician for their outdoor equipment, and he got the job. We all had a celebratory drink together. He was really excited, and he is a very, very nice man. Has three kids, one going to college in the fall (at SUNY Oswego) so this is a very important event for him. I like him a lot, even if he did charge me $650 to fix my rotten old Jeep many years ago when all I wanted was to get it running so I could use it to plow with.

And today is a beautiful, sunny day. Tomorrow and Sunday are supposed to be cloudy but I won't mind. If it doesn't rain I will take my mower to Ken's to have him show me how to change the oil so I can mow my lawn. He bought a case of the right kind of oil and is insisting that I change the oil even though I had it changed last year and only mowed about 3 times. Apparently if an engine sits for several months you MUST change the oil before running it again. I knew that already, I just don't want it to be true about my lawn mower.

I only have to work 4 days next week, then I'm off for 5 days. I have a very long list of things I hope to accomplish during my time off. Maybe I can make myself do some of them this weekend. Memorial Day is the time I usually divide my house into zones and clean a zone a day. I'm trying a slightly different approach this year, since there aren't really zones in need of attention. The library, pantry and mud room are in desperate need, however, so those will be zones. yuck. I can do the pantry and mud room in a day, but it must be a day that the dump is open. I wish I had a truck.

You scored as Disappear. Your death will be by disappearing, probably a camping trip gone wrong or an evening hike you never returned from. Disappear 93% Natural Causes 73% Bomb 60% Suicide 47% Gunshot 47% Stabbed 47% Posion 33% Drowning 33% Accident 33% Suffocated 27% Eaten 27% Disease 20% Cut Throat 0% How Will You Die?? created with QuizFarm.com

I hit Walmart hard last night. One of the things I bought was a set of earphones to try out at work. Now I can listen to Rock.com while the woman who works near me is at work, instead of waiting for the few moments when she is not in. So far this morning I have been cataloging like a mad fool to music no one else can hear. Best to type to so far: She was (Talking Heads). Worst to type to: Night swimming (REM) Most interesting to type to: Jimi Hendrix. I let out a little yelp when Jimi sang PURPLE HAZE! in my right ear as the guitar twanged in my left. Anyway, it's great distraction from the sound of my fingers on the keyboard, which, I've determined, just make me focus on how fast I am or am not typing, and how many mistakes I make, and how many times I tab to get to the right MARC field.

What else I bought at Walmart: 2 pairs of "lounging" pants with elastic waists, 2 camisoles (since the dog has chewed the straps on ALL the camisoles I own, apparently--she loves narrow strappy-type things), 1 pair of shorts, a bottle of carpet cleaner special for dog smell and stains, 2 huge bags of potting soil (Ken says "You BUY dirt? you pay money for dirt? you've got acres and acres of dirt!" Yes, but this is special dirt), weed killer for my blackberry bushes and wild oregano (bad, bad girl, toxic and non-organic), a new terra cotta pot for only $5 for my coleus garden-in-a-pot which will be striking and wonderfully colorful and a few other things. The problem with me is that, when I have a few extra dollars, as I do now, I spend it without counting it. I've spent about $200 in the past few days, on things I need (I use the term "need" loosely--liquor is among my purchases), not luxuries. I mean, I NEED dirt to put in my pots, right?

I seem to be missing a guppy. There were only 3 this morning. Where's Mr. Dark Blue? I looked and looked in the tank and cannot find him. Honestly, there is just no place for him to swim off to. Tonight I will conduct a more comprehensive search and will change their water. It's getting a little dirty, slightly brown. Did they eat him? They couldn't have eaten his fins and tail and bones. WHERE DID HE GO? Jump out of the tank? Not.

Back to Willsboro's collection of old and irrelevant New York stuff. Then I have to speak to the collected correctional facility librarians about how poorly they do their jobs. I may as well be speaking to a pile of dirt. Free dirt, not boughten dirt.

I got my staples out! Do you call it "removed" when you're having them taken out of your body? Anyway, my body is now free of the piercings that come with surgery, and I will no longer wince when I bump into things, or when the dogs step on me in the 4 places that were pierced. I'm not interested in body piercings beyond the 4 holes I have in my ears.

Spring is here. The greens are obscene. I love them. My favorite is Poplar Green. The leaves are a color that cannot be duplicated. It is a wonderful, bright, optimistic green that is full of charm, hope, and good cheer. I sleep with my window open. I woke at 3 this morning and heard noises I couldn't identify,and was finally reassured by the fact that my window was open so they were Noises of the Forest (as opposed to Noises of the House) so it didn't matter what sounds they were. The Little Dog kept going under the covers, too hot, then out from under them, too cool, then back under, then on top, ad nauseum. I dreamed a total plot of Law and Order, which I was watching in my dream. Too bad I didn't write it down and turn it into a screenplay. Restless night but I got up in time to take a shower and get to work 10 minutes early. College graduation was Sat. so there is now much less traffic (though I hesitate to call what I deal with en route to Plattsburgh "traffic"). I do enjoy, savor and look forward to this time of year.

My next writing project is an article for the shoreowners' association's newsletter, based on an interview with Ken, about the father of the man who now does Ken's taxes. A Lebanese immigrant, Mike George started his retail business selling pencils from a baby carriage which he wheeled around AuSable Forks. Eventually he had a thriving business selling all sorts of goods from a horse-drawn wagon, with a route that stretched from AuSable Forks to Loon Lake, a route that took him 3 days to cover. Everyone (including Ken's mother) would wait for Mike to bring the goods they needed--things like fabric and sewing supplies, clothes, office supplies, the list is incredible. When his wagon was empty he would return to the Forks to fill it again. The way Ken tells it he was only home 1 or 2 days a week, but he had at least 5 children so I'm not sure that's really true. Anyway, I love these details and will record Ken going over the details this week so I can write it up. People could request specific items and Mike would bring them the next time he came. I love the fact that Ken remembers this and that this happened on the road I drive on every time I leave my dirt road. There are so many things like this that Ken tells me about, but we talk less about the old days and mostly about current events, events of the day, etc. Our relationship is not based on the past but rather on the present and the future.

My weekend was good. Yesterday was not good, but Saturday made up for that. I took Ken to the doctor for his follow-up visit (Friday I took him to Plattsburgh for cataract surgery) in Plattsburgh. The results of his surgery have been really good, much to my relief. I know too many people who did not have good results of cataract surgery, and given his age I was fearful. He's very pleased with how well he can see now, though. After the doctor's appointment we went to AuSable so he could get his mail and some groceries. I did the shopping while he visited with his crones in the store. What a funny man. I saw 2 people I knew, including Jackson's former owner. Then I went home, collected my garbage and recyclables and went to the dump: another very satisfying experience.

I picked Lin up and we went plant shopping, the first major pilgrimage of the season. We went to our usual haunt, but they've raised their prices this year. I still bought a ton of stuff and spent lots of money. Mostly annuals for my containers, but nothing dramatic, just the filler stuff. Petunias, alyssum, portulaca, asters, and my favorite geranium, Vancouver Centennial. I have a 4-year old plant of this, which is very leggy and not attractive. My new plant is squat and plush. I will put the new one next to the old one for inspiration. We went to a second place, where the prices were lower and the plants were great. This place is not always good so were were really pleased. I got great snapdragons, the really tall kind I like to have a bunch of, some cosmos (including white ones) and some really beautiful Martha Washington geraniums. Really beautiful. Lucky Martha, she got to have the most exotic and truly gorgeous geraniums named after her. I've also bought 3 kinds of pinks (dianthus), which are perennials. I used to have a huge patch of these and they smelled like cinnamon. I neglected them, however, and they got too crowded and died. The new ones will be treated with respect and hopefully will flourish.

My daffodils look wonderful this year. We had 2 days that were warm enough to lure nearly all of my plants into blooming last week. I have different varieties of daffodils, those that bloom in early, middle and late spring. They are nearly all blooming now. From dark yellow to nearly white, some fragrant. Tiny ones only 6" high to big ones. I like them and will plant more in the few spaces along my walls where there are none. Or so I think right now. Fall is when you plant them. This week I will go to the cemetery to admire Jenica's planting on Henry's grave.

And now I will be productive in the ways which I am paid for. Cataloging things for Schroon Lake. Worthless videos and horrible books.

BACK TO WORK
Although I haven't done anything resembling work in the 3 hours I've been here this morning. Sorting through the 123 emails I received in my absence (can't read my email from home because the laptop I have doesn't have Java loaded on it yet). Lots of crap, some relevant messages. Spent almost 2 hours, 2 separate calls, on the phone with my college friend Doug. He called to tell me that he had lunch with the man who was the college boyfriend of my friend Beth. When Doug told Bob that Beth was a friend of mine, Bob said, "Oh, I remember Elizabeth, she was the little blonde." Doug said he was kind and didn't point out that I am no longer very little or very blonde. So during the first phone call we spent a lot of time talking about a lot of people from college, since he had new news of people we don't ordinarily talk about. That was nice, new names to talk about. We graduated from college 31 years ago. How can that be?

Second phone call was devoted to news of our lives. His three children are finally all in good places in their lives. Two of them (one named Elizabeth) have had bad patches in their lives, especially Beth, whose "patch" extended through several years and included an unwanted pregnancy and subsequent abortion, drug use, clinical depression, self-mutilation, and the list goes on. Poor Doug struggled through all of this and was the target of a lot of her venom. I listened to him endlessly through these years and counseled him as best I could. His marriage is not a happy one, hasn't been for many, many years. He said he knew the night before his wedding that he didn't want to get married. WHY DO PEOPLE GET MARRIED ANYWAY? At least I'm not married to someone who doesn't want to be married to me, say what you will about the mayor of Lake Placid.

So now I'm sitting at my desk. The morning started out poorly. The dog knocked a bunch of stuff of of the night stand by the bed, retrieving the 3" piece of leash with clasp attached that passes for her current favorite toy these days. I was convinced my glasses had been there, so searched for 10 minutes, including looking with a flashlight under the bureau, the bed, etc., moving the bed, trying to pick up the bed to put the leg back underneath it (boy that sure hurt my abdomen! don't do that!). I finally found my glasses--NOT on the television, where I promise myself I will always put them, but on the plant table, where I never put them. But they were safe, unscratched and found. I left home early, plenty of time to stop at Ken's to put drops in his eyes in prep. of his cataract surgery tomorrow. Got to work BEFORE 8:00. They were shocked to see me, solicitous, eager to hear how I was, how my surgery was (or at least feigned interest). I arrived with a big smush of dog poop on the sole of my shoe, had to go to the garage to wash it off. I'm beyond being embarrassed about that sort of thing and they all know me too well to do anything but chuckle at me.

So how do I feel? I have some discomfort, but that's probably from trying to pick up the bed, not from coming to work. Driving was fine. Sitting at my desk is fine. I have to move a few boxes of books for the Court System's legal resource project, to make sure that all that was ordered by them for our member libraries was delivered. That seemed to go ok and I won't unpack them right now, just open and examine the contents of the boxes. What I'll do for the rest of the day is uncertain. Catalog, I suppose.

It's very green here in Plattsburgh, very different from Hawkeye. Leaves on trees, ornamental trees in bloom. Shad is in bloom at home, that happened quickly. My daffodils are blooming, just about peak. Cherry trees not yet in bloom. Tiny, tiny leaves on poplars there, tiny leaves on maples here in the city. It's about 10 days ahead of us here in the Champlain Valley. Nice to drive in to see it.

Dinner with Ken last night. Bill was there for a while, we had cocktails together. He had come to put the water in at his camp, which only took 20 minutes--not a single leak or complication. Boy that sure never happens at our camp! Ken and I had a nice visit over dinner, then sat companionably and read the newspaper afterwards. It rained hard for a bit, then I went out on his deck and listened to the spring peepers. Yum, a wonderful sound.

The other night I watched the film House of Sand and Fog. I'd read the book so I knew about the ending. Ben Kingsley played the lead role. He's truly a master. It was a really wonderful film, true to the book. I reallly enjoyed it. I also watched I Heart Huckabees, which I did not enjoy very much at all. All-star cast, including Lily Tomlin and Dustin Hoffman. What were they thinking when they agreed to be in that? They played existential therapists. That's a movie to skip. Sand and Fog, that's one to see.

So this is my 4th day at home after surgery. I love being at home, I could so much get used to this. What I don't like is not being able to do anything. There are so many things that need to be done outside--picking up stuff, digging up stuff. The yard and my gardens are a mess but I'm resisting temptation and am not doing anything to them. I can't bend over, I can only squat. So far all I've done is pick some daffodils for display in my living room and plant some pansies in a big pot on my deck railing. I had to plant them, it's a May ritual for me. They're beautiful, this year I picked the nearly-black purple ones to go in the white (albeit plastic) bowl-shaped pot I have each year. Great satisfaction in having that done. I also planted two pansy plants in a special mug that I broke the rim of, made by a prominent potter friend of mine. It looks a little silly but I can't bear to throw the mug away, it has a raised heron on it. Too pretty to part with, she doesn't make them any more.

So what do I do every day? Does it hurt any more? I do pretty much nothing every day and yes, it hurts a little bit. Today was better, not as much pain. The pain gets duller every day. This pain is NOTHING compared to pain I've had from other surgeries. I'm not impressed. One thing that hurts are the staples themselves. The dogs bump them, I bump them. One staple is too tight, has pulled too much skin and is irritating. So I watch DVDs, television, do crossword puzzles, take naps, pet my dogs, take pain meds (though fewer these days). Today I had to get firewood for my fire, it was 61 in my living room when I got up. I'm reading, too. Right now I'm watching the free U2 concert in NYC. Bono sure is a special person. The band rode around Manhattan on the back of a flat bed truck for a day, playing and letting different people come up to sing and play with them, then they played a free concert under the Brooklyn Bridge.

It was sunny and warm a couple of days but I didn't feel like being outdoors, which is how I knew there really was something wrong with me. What I really crave under normal circumstances is to sit in the sun and read a book, but those 2 days I had no desire to be outside, stayed inside on my couch.

My friend Julie came to see me yesterday, to bring me food and to keep me company. About 2 miles from my house she ran off the road, hit a tree and totaled her car. Wasn't hurt, and the sheriff just happened to come by just after her accident to help her take care of everything, get the car towed, give her a ride to my house, etc. I lent her my car to get home, and they'll get a rental car tomorrow. I knew how she felt, having rolled my car last fall through my own stupidity. One thing I thought was "Man am I glad I don't have to deal with anyone else when I have those things happen to me," since she felt really bad at having wrecked thier only car. Of course, the flip side is now needing the help of friends when I'm incapacitated. Fred picked me up and took me to Ken's for Sunday dinner, said he would do anything I needed for help. I have many friends who have offered.

I am fine. This pain is nothing compared to what I have been through. It's like puppy pain and totally manageable.

Too Low For Zero

Music by Elton John
Lyrics by Bernie Taupin

Six o'clock alarm
I get the wake up call
Let that sucker jingle-jangle
Ring right off the wall
I'm too low for zero
I'm too tired to work
Tied one on with a friend last night
And wound up losing my shirt
I'm too low for zero
I'm on a losing streak
I got myself in a bad patch lately
I can't seem to get much sleep
I'm too low for zero
I wind up counting sheep
Nothing seems to make much sense
It's all just Greek to me

You know I'm too low, too low, too low for zero
You know I'm too low, too low, too low for zero

Cutting out cups of coffee
Switching off the late night news
Putting the cat out two hours early
It isn't any use
I'm too low for zero
Insomnia attacks
Watching flies with my eyes till sunrise
It's daylight when I hit the sack


I like this song because it reminds me of a place I've been and go to from time to time, when I feel really low, but I can look at it from here and recognize it from the other side. I'm not there right now, and I know that when I'm there I won't stay there. I like the part about putting the cat out early. I do that with the dogs. I also really like the concept of being too low for zero.

But now it's spring, the other size for me, and things are looking pretty good. I'm about to go "under the knife" as everyone seems to enjoy telling me. I get butterflies in my stomach when I think about it. The last two nights I drank the bottle of wine I had for my book group (which, it turned out, was a good thing they didn't want to drink: it wasn't very good wine). I never, ever drink wine alone at home, but decided I want to have some. So I drank it and it relaxed me. And I fell asleep. Mission accomplished. And I had strange dreams. And I slept through the alarm. And today I'm not feeling a great deal of pressure about work things, but I have about 5 errands to run to get ready to spend a week at home without driving anywhere. I'll never be able to pull it off, I'll have to drive somewhere.

Slept right through the alarm this morning, woke up at the exact time I should have been driving off to work. I was 20 minutes late to work, a few minutes later than I should have been because I stopped to get coffee in Cadyville. What the hell, I was already late.

I ordered 2 CD's last week, in a moment of nostaglia-stricken weakness. The Beatles White Album, which I've wanted for a long time. The Beatles were masterful, and that album zings me back into a time in my life when I was going through a process of self-awareness and discovery that ended up in an interesting place that was a springboard to where I am now. A baby step in that direction, for sure, but it was a step nevertheless, and I love the music partly for that exact reason. The other CD was Elton John's Too Low for Zero, which also takes me to a specific time and place in my life. 1983-84, when I was dating a tennis pro named Ace and having some fun in life but also some misery. I needed to get my shit together and make a decision about things. My housing situation really needed addressing: I'd been living in the same house for 9 years, renting it and I needed to move on, buy a house of my own. I was in therapy that wasn't really going anywhere (I see now why). Although I enjoyed being with Ace he didn't treat me very well, you can't really base a relationship soley on sex unless you understand yourself that that's what you're doing. I liked him too much for that. Also, he didn't want to be monogamous because he was looking for the perfect woman. When I left him for Jamie he said pitifully "But what was wrong with me?" Anyway, the Elton John album is one of my favorites. We used to play "I Wanna Kiss the Bride" and he would sing "I wanna hit the ball." And that was about as funny as he got. But he was pretty cute.

Your #1 Match: INTP

The Thinker You are analytical and logical - and on a quest to learn everything you can.Smart and complex, you always love a new intellectual challenge.Your biggest pet peeve is people who slow you down with trivial chit chat.A quiet maverick, you tend to ignore rules and authority whenever you feel like it. You would make an excellent mathematician, programmer, or professor.

Your #2 Match: ISTP

The Mechanic You are calm and collected, even in the most difficult of situations.A person of action and self-direction, you love being independent.To outsiders yous eem impulsive, surprising, and unpredictable.You are good at understanding how all things work, except for people. You would make an excellent pilot, forensic pathologist, or athlete.

What's" Your Personality Type?
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Your Linguistic Profile:

45% Yankee

30% General American English

20% Upper Midwestern

5% Dixie

0% Midwestern

What Kind of American English Do You Speak?

Well, I like the 30% general American English. Pretty much to be expected, considering the fact that I lived in Turkey, Au Sable Forks, southern Illinois, central Illinois, northern Illinois, then Connecticut and Rhode Island and now northern New York. And as my sister notes, we were constantly criticized for showing anything remotely resembling a Midwesern twang (sorry, Spaulding, it showed up anyway--it's a strong force, that Midwestern influence). I have pretty much tried not to have any accent at all, to be as generic in my speech as possible. And I guess I've succeeded 30% of the time. But 5% of the time I sound southern.