I saw the coolest thing yesterday on my way to work. There was a very red doe standing next to the road, and standing next to her was a totally white fawn. All white. So pretty, so magical. It wasn't an albino because its eyes were very dark and surrounded by black eyeliner, just as its mother's were, and its nose was very dark as well. How cute and special. I thought of it as a good luck omen, but then I got very depressed and cried most of the rest of the way to work, thinking about my brother and how much I miss him. So much for something good happening that will carry you through the day!
I miss my brother a lot now because there are things he would be doing at camp, and this is a weekend he would probably be coming here to do them. There are projects he could work on, and he would have liked doing them, fixing his camp, making a contribution and making the place better. I feel very sad that he died because there were many things that he wanted to do, there was so much he wanted to live for and he was looking forward to the rest of his life. And of course I miss him very much. I wanted to tell him about the white fawn. He would have thought that was pretty cool.
It's still hot and muggy but only in the 80's not 90 right now. I'm sleeping at home. The last time I slept at the boat house was Tuesday night. I couldn't get to sleep and neither could the dogs. They paced all over the bed and I tossed and turned in the dark until after 1:00. Maybe I need to ingest lest caffeine, or maybe I'm struggling with things in my mind, or maybe I'm just not a warm weather person. Last night I slept better, in my bed with my window open, listening to the occasional sound of the forest.
Roger Douglas stopped by last night, looking for his sweet cat Marius. I got to chat with Roger, who is really one of the nicest people I know. I haven't seen him in months. He said his father Leroy is having a very bad time and there's really something wrong with him (well, we all knew that a long time ago). Roger has always worked for his father in the summer but said he quit on Tuesday, couldn't take his father's behavior anymore. His brother-in-law quit yesterday. That's even more amazing. This is really big news in the neighborhood. Also very scary, Leroy on the loose. We always count on Roger to help keep Leroy under control.
No one coming to camp this weekend, unusual for the 4th. Cousin Elsa may show up, she sometimes does. I have a lot going on. Linda and Erdvilas arrive tomorrow night, as do the women from Balto. Saturday morning the shoreowners' association does a road cleanup, followed by a cookout at noon. Sunday is special noon dinner at Joe and Martha's--that will be big and fancy. Monday I'm hoping for some dock time. Steve said he should be able to work on my deck this weekend. Roger is a contractor and asked me about my deck yesterday, I could tell he thought I should have asked him to do it. At the rate Steve's going, I think he was right. I've got some other work I'd like to get done and I think I might ask Roger to do it. I'd love to have my bathtub functioning again.
We reached a tentative settlement with the board in negotiations on Tuesday night. It's a really good agreement for our unit and I'm really happy with it. I think it went really well mostly because the director (INTERIM director, that is) was out of town so it was just 2 rational board members and a rational attorney (is that an oxymoron?). They suggested we leave out the drug/alcohol use policy that we have struggled and argued over for hours (which was what we suggested doing in the first place) and they agreed to our demand that those of us who have never contributed to our health insurance coverage continue to not pay. We got a 3% increase for each of the 3 years of the contract, which isn't much but it's up from the 2% that they said was their absolute bottom line. We proved to them that the cost of living index was 2.91%. Doubtless we'll lose money in real salaries in years 2 and 3 but at least we have a contract we can present to the unit that they'll actually ratify. And this is my last round of negotiations, since I am no longer president of the unit effective tomorrow. Yes!! The way the new officers went about running for office was mean-spirited and cruel, but the end result is all right with me and I didn't run for re-election. I am feeling good about not having to deal with being president any more. It's been 5 or 6 years, I forget how many, and it's been so nasty and contentious dealing with this director that I'm happy to be rid of it. Of course, we're getting a new director who doubtless will be more rational. Some of the members think I was the problem, which is what is upsetting to Julie and me (she was the vice president), they never heard about the things the director did, or realized that we were just holding the line, not picking the fights. But that's in the past and you can't control what people conclude when they don't have the facts.
Today it's more opera videos to catalog for Lake Placid. Does anybody every watch these? I have a feeling I'm spending hours and hours cataloging these so they can sit on the shelf and never get used. But it doesn't matter, this is my job and I do it.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Monday, June 27, 2005
It's very hot, hot, hot
It's been hot for days. 93 on Saturday. I stayed in the boat house Friday and Saturday nights, but the back bedroom downstairs in my house was very cool last night (I slept under a comforter, even) because it's up against the woods, which cools it off a whole lot. I had a very unproductive weekend. Saturday it was too hot for me to do anything. I decided that I wouldn't do anything at home so I stayed at camp. I sat on the boat house porch for most of the morning, then moved to the big rock to catch the sun in the afternoon. I discovered that someone had built a fire on the rock sometime during the winter and it's covered with leftover char. Yucca pucca. I really hate the thought of someone's hanging out at our boat house during the winter, but there's not much we can do about it. Anyway, I enjoyed myself a whole lot, as did the Brown Girls. We all swam a bunch in water that is cold but not too cold, just refreshing enough. I loved it.
Sunday I hosted Sunday dinner but Bill did all the work. My cousin Bill and my cousin Anne's husband Jim put in the boat house dock and Sonci's dock in the morning (Tess said "DOCKS! I'm standing on a DOCK!"). Bill and I had invited The Boys from the camp below my house, so I was really happy to get to spend time with them. As previously noted, I really like them a lot. They loved having wine and cheese on the b.h. porch before dinner and hanging out on camp's porch for a long time after dinner. They looked really cute, all lined up in the chairs facing the lake. It was cool and wonderful and they didn't leave until after 3. I stayed to wash the dishes, went home at 4 and took a long nap with Jackson and the chocolates.
Today it's hot still, due to be 90. I went to the doctor this morning. He is my friend. He burst into the room, announcing "I hate this weather!" Then we had a long talk about Tom Cruise and Scientology and their misguided views on psychiatry and chemical imbalances. My bad cholesterol level is down from 109 to 67. He was thrilled, I was surprised. It's due to my increased activity level, we guessed. Mowing the lawn, walking the dogs. I suppose if I lived in a warmer climate overall health would be better, assuming I were active all year. Anyway, I haven't lost weight but my pants fit better. He says I'm converting fat to muscle. I said he was exaggerating. I like a doctor who is excited and optimistic. We talked about the interview we both heard on the Today show this morning. he heard it while he was doing rounds at the nursing home (see? I said he was a wonderful doctor--who else would do such a dismal job). Matt Lauer interviewing Tom Cruise, followed by the President of the American Psychiatric Association. All the buzz.
And now I must catalog an interesting mix for Ticonderoga. Some audio books, some fiction, some really strange stuff. And have another cup of coffee before I switch to Diet Coke. Must try the new version of Diet Coke, which is rumored to taste just like regular Coke. But I really like the taste of Diet Coke...
It's been hot for days. 93 on Saturday. I stayed in the boat house Friday and Saturday nights, but the back bedroom downstairs in my house was very cool last night (I slept under a comforter, even) because it's up against the woods, which cools it off a whole lot. I had a very unproductive weekend. Saturday it was too hot for me to do anything. I decided that I wouldn't do anything at home so I stayed at camp. I sat on the boat house porch for most of the morning, then moved to the big rock to catch the sun in the afternoon. I discovered that someone had built a fire on the rock sometime during the winter and it's covered with leftover char. Yucca pucca. I really hate the thought of someone's hanging out at our boat house during the winter, but there's not much we can do about it. Anyway, I enjoyed myself a whole lot, as did the Brown Girls. We all swam a bunch in water that is cold but not too cold, just refreshing enough. I loved it.
Sunday I hosted Sunday dinner but Bill did all the work. My cousin Bill and my cousin Anne's husband Jim put in the boat house dock and Sonci's dock in the morning (Tess said "DOCKS! I'm standing on a DOCK!"). Bill and I had invited The Boys from the camp below my house, so I was really happy to get to spend time with them. As previously noted, I really like them a lot. They loved having wine and cheese on the b.h. porch before dinner and hanging out on camp's porch for a long time after dinner. They looked really cute, all lined up in the chairs facing the lake. It was cool and wonderful and they didn't leave until after 3. I stayed to wash the dishes, went home at 4 and took a long nap with Jackson and the chocolates.
Today it's hot still, due to be 90. I went to the doctor this morning. He is my friend. He burst into the room, announcing "I hate this weather!" Then we had a long talk about Tom Cruise and Scientology and their misguided views on psychiatry and chemical imbalances. My bad cholesterol level is down from 109 to 67. He was thrilled, I was surprised. It's due to my increased activity level, we guessed. Mowing the lawn, walking the dogs. I suppose if I lived in a warmer climate overall health would be better, assuming I were active all year. Anyway, I haven't lost weight but my pants fit better. He says I'm converting fat to muscle. I said he was exaggerating. I like a doctor who is excited and optimistic. We talked about the interview we both heard on the Today show this morning. he heard it while he was doing rounds at the nursing home (see? I said he was a wonderful doctor--who else would do such a dismal job). Matt Lauer interviewing Tom Cruise, followed by the President of the American Psychiatric Association. All the buzz.
And now I must catalog an interesting mix for Ticonderoga. Some audio books, some fiction, some really strange stuff. And have another cup of coffee before I switch to Diet Coke. Must try the new version of Diet Coke, which is rumored to taste just like regular Coke. But I really like the taste of Diet Coke...
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Last night I dreamed that I cried and cried because it was my anniversary. In reality I did not cry but I did recognize that it was my anniversary and my ex-husband is soon getting married. This doesn't bother me emotionally but it's one of those societal things: one member of the couple is moving on relationship-wise and the other is not. Do I think he's doing better than I am? No, in fact I think the opposite. Do I really care if people think he is? No, I don't, but there's still part of me that is Barbie-and-Ken influenced from the outside of my psyche. The pressure of our couple-defined culture. And so, based on my dream I would say this is more powerful in me than I realized. But today I could give a shit and I have moved on.
I couldn't get to sleep until 1:00 but I had a really good time watching Michael Keaton on David Letterman last night. He had been banned from the show, I'd heard because he booked Leno and Letterman for the same week and Letterman was really pissed about it. It's been years since he was on the show and I love to watch him interact with Letterman. He was at his best and I was entertained. Not sleepy, but entertained. This was after watching Michael Sidaris read a really good excerpt from his fable on Jon Stewart's show. But then all of a sudden it was 1 and I was not sleepy. That might have worked for me but the dogs, notable Tess woke at 4:30 and would not settle down. I glanced at the clock and thought it was 5:30 so decided it would be ok to get up, close enough to 6, thus nearly time to arise for work. When I took a good look at the clock, however, I squawked. Too late, both dogs were by now stirring. I got up at 5 and took all three for a walk to camp. The sun was up over the mountain but the lake was not calm. Tess had the best ever walk, running around like crazy. We woke up a deer at the top of the camp hill, in the woods. It took off like a shot into the woods, making a huge racket. I found myself almost wishing we'd run into either the Viscontis, my neighbors across the hardtop, or one of "the boys" who are in camp at the foot of my hill. This amused me, who loves to have the world to myself.
The boys are former campers who are here to open their camp but mostly to have a good time together. They gather each spring and fall to open and close their camp. They remind me of Henry and his friends when they all got along. These guys are in their 50's but act like 11 year olds when they're together. They are so cute I love to be around them. One is a judge, one runs his own business administering nursing homes, one is a wealthy retiree, one is a children's author from Marin County and I don't know what the other does but he's very cute. All but one are married to their original wives. They don't include me in their activities very often because it's basically a boys' club down there, but I run into them at Ken's or on the road sometimes. I didn't really expect to see anyone this morning, but I was sort of hoping to see Duncan, who jogs and is really the cutest, most lovable and universally adored of the bunch.
So this morning I was very groggy on the way to work and instead of listening to my book I cranked Pink up loudly and sang along to her songs (Let's get this party started!). When I got to work I could barely keep my eyes open, what a struggle it was! Now I've had at least 3 cups of coffee and am listening to Internet radio, the 80's--a switch from my usual music, which is keeping me pretty perky. I'm cataloging some very old and depressing children's books for Lake Placid. No library should have children's books published in the '20s or a set published in 1902, least of all a library here in the North Country.
Last night we had a negotiating session. The board has really been pushing their package deal, which includes an offer of a 2% raise and a contribution to our health insurance costs. The husband of one of our team members put together a huge spreadsheet which illustrates how much money we would lose if we accepted their package. The cost of living index is now at 2.91%. His figures were great, and I handed them out at the end of the session to give the board something to chew on. They met after we adjourned. The difference between their offer and our counter-offer is $40,000 over 3 years, so we're hoping they'll at least consider it. But I'm a foolish optimist. I'd just really like to settle this contract.
And now back to 1902.
I couldn't get to sleep until 1:00 but I had a really good time watching Michael Keaton on David Letterman last night. He had been banned from the show, I'd heard because he booked Leno and Letterman for the same week and Letterman was really pissed about it. It's been years since he was on the show and I love to watch him interact with Letterman. He was at his best and I was entertained. Not sleepy, but entertained. This was after watching Michael Sidaris read a really good excerpt from his fable on Jon Stewart's show. But then all of a sudden it was 1 and I was not sleepy. That might have worked for me but the dogs, notable Tess woke at 4:30 and would not settle down. I glanced at the clock and thought it was 5:30 so decided it would be ok to get up, close enough to 6, thus nearly time to arise for work. When I took a good look at the clock, however, I squawked. Too late, both dogs were by now stirring. I got up at 5 and took all three for a walk to camp. The sun was up over the mountain but the lake was not calm. Tess had the best ever walk, running around like crazy. We woke up a deer at the top of the camp hill, in the woods. It took off like a shot into the woods, making a huge racket. I found myself almost wishing we'd run into either the Viscontis, my neighbors across the hardtop, or one of "the boys" who are in camp at the foot of my hill. This amused me, who loves to have the world to myself.
The boys are former campers who are here to open their camp but mostly to have a good time together. They gather each spring and fall to open and close their camp. They remind me of Henry and his friends when they all got along. These guys are in their 50's but act like 11 year olds when they're together. They are so cute I love to be around them. One is a judge, one runs his own business administering nursing homes, one is a wealthy retiree, one is a children's author from Marin County and I don't know what the other does but he's very cute. All but one are married to their original wives. They don't include me in their activities very often because it's basically a boys' club down there, but I run into them at Ken's or on the road sometimes. I didn't really expect to see anyone this morning, but I was sort of hoping to see Duncan, who jogs and is really the cutest, most lovable and universally adored of the bunch.
So this morning I was very groggy on the way to work and instead of listening to my book I cranked Pink up loudly and sang along to her songs (Let's get this party started!). When I got to work I could barely keep my eyes open, what a struggle it was! Now I've had at least 3 cups of coffee and am listening to Internet radio, the 80's--a switch from my usual music, which is keeping me pretty perky. I'm cataloging some very old and depressing children's books for Lake Placid. No library should have children's books published in the '20s or a set published in 1902, least of all a library here in the North Country.
Last night we had a negotiating session. The board has really been pushing their package deal, which includes an offer of a 2% raise and a contribution to our health insurance costs. The husband of one of our team members put together a huge spreadsheet which illustrates how much money we would lose if we accepted their package. The cost of living index is now at 2.91%. His figures were great, and I handed them out at the end of the session to give the board something to chew on. They met after we adjourned. The difference between their offer and our counter-offer is $40,000 over 3 years, so we're hoping they'll at least consider it. But I'm a foolish optimist. I'd just really like to settle this contract.
And now back to 1902.
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
June 22nd: 20th wedding anniversary
I only know this because the date leaps out at me from the calendar. Someone asked me if it means anything to me, if it's an emotional day for me. No, not in the least. I just can't believe that 20 years have gone by since I got married, and yet I can. A lot has happened in 20 years. I can't believe that it's been 10 years since he moved out, that's harder to believe. Of course, he was still very much involved in my life for 2 or so years after he left, and we've only been divorced for 2 years. My life is so much my own life now, and has been for so long, that my marriage happened to someone else, a person who was very different from the person I am now. I am a more complete person now, someone who understands much about herself and can handle the things that happen to her. I know who cares about me and how they care about me, and I know how much I need to have someone care about me. I know how to ask for help when I need it--though I am loathe to do so. I love to be alone, I love living alone but I also understand that I have a need to be with other people sometimes (thank goodness--I would worry about myself if I didn't have this need). I have friends, enough of them so that when something happens to me they call and show up to help me. This is who I have become.
And today is a beautiful day, a perfect 70-degree day. This is the weather I crave. I took Monday off (because it was going to be a beautiful day, but mostly because the director was going to be at work that day). It was 80, a little hot for me. I was relatively productive. Mowed and weed-whacked. I used Lin's self-propelled mower and was able to mow my lawn and all around my driveway in a fraction of the time it would have taken with my mower. I love her mower. I did not get my garden dug out from under the canopy of grass it is now hidden under. This is the most disagreeable chore now facing me. I did read in the sun for a long time, which is one of my favorite activities. I'm reading Running with scissors, a memoir that our book group has chosen. It's hard to believe this is someone's life, and yet it's also so strange that it's not hard to believe. Monday evening Stevie came to work on my deck. He took down the deck and stairs that lead to the mud room. It looks totally naked over there now. He's going to tie the stairs and mud room door in to the front deck.
Had a good weekend, though the weather was cool. It was 42 Sunday morning, too cool for June I think. Jenica and Drew slept in the boat house, I stayed home under many covers and with a brown girl at my feet and another at my side. Saturday I prepared most of the meal for Sunday dinner, as I hosted it at Sonci. Chicken/potato salad with dill and olives. Cole slaw. What was supposed to be a delicious peach pie in a coconut crust but didn't turn out the way I envisioned it AT ALL. The fete was a success, though, and we had 7 people on the porch enjoying each other and the view. It was very nice. I got to hear about Joe's trip to Iceland, a place I've wanted to visit for the last 30 years. He says there are no trees there. OK, so I wouldn't want to live there, just visit.
The cousins had planned to come last weekend to put in the docks, but due to the weather they have rescheduled for this weekend. This weekend's weather doesn't look much better. We'll see what happens. At least the water's in so we can use the kitchen and flush the toilet. I can't believe how close we are to July. Much work will be done on camp for Jamie's rehearsal party the night before his wedding, I'm sure. That will be nice for us, we can all enjoy a new improved camp. It can use a good cleaning. I'll be at Erdvilas' birthday party that night.
This morning I went to the dump (after first stopping at camp to pick up the garbage there), then to the blood place to have my blood tested, and still got to work only 5 minutes late. I would have been on time if I'd gone to the other blood place, where I always go, but I tried the different place. Turns out all the old people go to this place and there are a lot of them and they move slowly. Won't go there again and don't want to get like that.
Have a negotiating session tonight. Two scheduled before I am no longer president of the bargaining unit. What happens after that I don't know. We have an elaborate chart that shows how much money we lose if we accept their salary offer, which is less than the cost of inflation. And how much more we lose if we contribute 5% to the cost of our health care, as they want us to. They'll be surprised that we're so well prepared. I'm not looking forward to this, have enjoyed the hiatus we've had, but don't know why we haven't been meeting for the past several weeks.
Tonight is dinner with Ken. Hamburgers and frozen fries. He's very busy these days, mowing and cutting up a big maple that came down. A happy man who's got too much to do.
I only know this because the date leaps out at me from the calendar. Someone asked me if it means anything to me, if it's an emotional day for me. No, not in the least. I just can't believe that 20 years have gone by since I got married, and yet I can. A lot has happened in 20 years. I can't believe that it's been 10 years since he moved out, that's harder to believe. Of course, he was still very much involved in my life for 2 or so years after he left, and we've only been divorced for 2 years. My life is so much my own life now, and has been for so long, that my marriage happened to someone else, a person who was very different from the person I am now. I am a more complete person now, someone who understands much about herself and can handle the things that happen to her. I know who cares about me and how they care about me, and I know how much I need to have someone care about me. I know how to ask for help when I need it--though I am loathe to do so. I love to be alone, I love living alone but I also understand that I have a need to be with other people sometimes (thank goodness--I would worry about myself if I didn't have this need). I have friends, enough of them so that when something happens to me they call and show up to help me. This is who I have become.
And today is a beautiful day, a perfect 70-degree day. This is the weather I crave. I took Monday off (because it was going to be a beautiful day, but mostly because the director was going to be at work that day). It was 80, a little hot for me. I was relatively productive. Mowed and weed-whacked. I used Lin's self-propelled mower and was able to mow my lawn and all around my driveway in a fraction of the time it would have taken with my mower. I love her mower. I did not get my garden dug out from under the canopy of grass it is now hidden under. This is the most disagreeable chore now facing me. I did read in the sun for a long time, which is one of my favorite activities. I'm reading Running with scissors, a memoir that our book group has chosen. It's hard to believe this is someone's life, and yet it's also so strange that it's not hard to believe. Monday evening Stevie came to work on my deck. He took down the deck and stairs that lead to the mud room. It looks totally naked over there now. He's going to tie the stairs and mud room door in to the front deck.
Had a good weekend, though the weather was cool. It was 42 Sunday morning, too cool for June I think. Jenica and Drew slept in the boat house, I stayed home under many covers and with a brown girl at my feet and another at my side. Saturday I prepared most of the meal for Sunday dinner, as I hosted it at Sonci. Chicken/potato salad with dill and olives. Cole slaw. What was supposed to be a delicious peach pie in a coconut crust but didn't turn out the way I envisioned it AT ALL. The fete was a success, though, and we had 7 people on the porch enjoying each other and the view. It was very nice. I got to hear about Joe's trip to Iceland, a place I've wanted to visit for the last 30 years. He says there are no trees there. OK, so I wouldn't want to live there, just visit.
The cousins had planned to come last weekend to put in the docks, but due to the weather they have rescheduled for this weekend. This weekend's weather doesn't look much better. We'll see what happens. At least the water's in so we can use the kitchen and flush the toilet. I can't believe how close we are to July. Much work will be done on camp for Jamie's rehearsal party the night before his wedding, I'm sure. That will be nice for us, we can all enjoy a new improved camp. It can use a good cleaning. I'll be at Erdvilas' birthday party that night.
This morning I went to the dump (after first stopping at camp to pick up the garbage there), then to the blood place to have my blood tested, and still got to work only 5 minutes late. I would have been on time if I'd gone to the other blood place, where I always go, but I tried the different place. Turns out all the old people go to this place and there are a lot of them and they move slowly. Won't go there again and don't want to get like that.
Have a negotiating session tonight. Two scheduled before I am no longer president of the bargaining unit. What happens after that I don't know. We have an elaborate chart that shows how much money we lose if we accept their salary offer, which is less than the cost of inflation. And how much more we lose if we contribute 5% to the cost of our health care, as they want us to. They'll be surprised that we're so well prepared. I'm not looking forward to this, have enjoyed the hiatus we've had, but don't know why we haven't been meeting for the past several weeks.
Tonight is dinner with Ken. Hamburgers and frozen fries. He's very busy these days, mowing and cutting up a big maple that came down. A happy man who's got too much to do.
Friday, June 17, 2005
I tagged Ken for the memory game and here's his memory:
"My first trip to AuSable Forks. It was summer and I was 5 years old [so this would have been 1919]. Dad and I left in the early morning, headed there with a pair of work horses. There was a dirt road to town and you had to drive the horses to steer them around the rocks in the road. We had a lunch packed by Ma--lamb sandwiches.
There were soda crackers and cheese out at the supply store for the customers to eat and we helped ourselves. If you didn't have a lunch that would be your lunch. There was a loading dock all around the outside of the store. When we got there we gave our order to the clerk and he put our things in a certain spot. Our order included things for my grandfather's store [his grandfather's store was where his house now stands] like coffee, tea, lard, sugar, and things for the campers. There were only about a half-dozen campers then, nothing like there are now.
We left home at 5 in the morning, got to town at 9. On the way home the horses were slowly plogging along under the heavy load. There was a wood block about 10 inches long and 6 inches in diameter, with a hole in the middle. It was my job to put a stick in the hole and put the block behind the rear wheel when my Dad would holler "Whoa!" and the horses would stop to rest. This kept the wagon still. Going up the Black Brook hill took about an hour with a full load and the horses had to rest every hundred feet or so.
When we got home it was 8 or 9 at night and the sun was just going down. You were living on top of the world when you went to the Forks."
"My first trip to AuSable Forks. It was summer and I was 5 years old [so this would have been 1919]. Dad and I left in the early morning, headed there with a pair of work horses. There was a dirt road to town and you had to drive the horses to steer them around the rocks in the road. We had a lunch packed by Ma--lamb sandwiches.
There were soda crackers and cheese out at the supply store for the customers to eat and we helped ourselves. If you didn't have a lunch that would be your lunch. There was a loading dock all around the outside of the store. When we got there we gave our order to the clerk and he put our things in a certain spot. Our order included things for my grandfather's store [his grandfather's store was where his house now stands] like coffee, tea, lard, sugar, and things for the campers. There were only about a half-dozen campers then, nothing like there are now.
We left home at 5 in the morning, got to town at 9. On the way home the horses were slowly plogging along under the heavy load. There was a wood block about 10 inches long and 6 inches in diameter, with a hole in the middle. It was my job to put a stick in the hole and put the block behind the rear wheel when my Dad would holler "Whoa!" and the horses would stop to rest. This kept the wagon still. Going up the Black Brook hill took about an hour with a full load and the horses had to rest every hundred feet or so.
When we got home it was 8 or 9 at night and the sun was just going down. You were living on top of the world when you went to the Forks."
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Memories:
1. Biloxi, Mississippi. With my brother and sister. It's hot, even though we're used to hot because we live in southern Illinois. We're chasing pieces of paper around the lawn next to the motel where we're staying. It's very exciting--very exciting. We later discover these are just blank receipts, the type a waitress in a diner/restaurant carries. To me they are special, almost forbidden forms, blowing around the ground. Other memories of the trip, which was special because it was a place we went that wasn't the Adirondacks: ocean water that was the strangest color, blue-green. Bad, bad sunburns. Jelly beans hidden around the motel room for Easter, including in the dial of the telephone. New Orleans, where we went to a cemetery and I slipped on a rotten stump that was hollow in the middle. The hole there seemed to go to the middle of the earth. When my mouth hit the stump my loose tooth came out, fell into the hole and disappeared, a very dramatic moment.
2. Lying in a hospital bed. Incredible pain fills my abdomen. Burning, aching, seething pain. Beyond the stupid scale they use when they ask you how bad your pain is. Waiting for the nurse to come with my morphine. The surgeon has just spent 5 hours cutting away my uterus, what was left of the only ovary and fallopian tube I had left, and scraping away as much of my endometriosis as he could. He had to cut around my bladder and colon and vast amounts of scar tissue from two previous surgeries. The whole thing is hell and I am now incapable of having children. I am 37 years old and alone.
3. Playing in the space next to the house at Rome Avenue with my brother and sister in what we called The Little Bill Village. We built elaborate driveways for our model cars and had little tiny people who sat in the drivers' seats. We used doll house furniture to furnish their "houses." We played among the lilies of the valley plants for what seemed like hours, the three of us. vroom vroom, squatting down, kneeling down. To this day when I drive by houses nestled in the woods with a certain type of driveway I say to myself "Little Bill Village."
4. It's the middle of the night, again at Rome Avenue. Early '60's. I wake up, terrified. I hear loud BOOMs, over and over again. It's totally dark and there are no sounds coming from the house. I run from my bedroom to my parents' bedroom, wake them up. "The Russians are bombing Rockford!" We've been told in school that when the Russians attack the United States, Rockford will be one of the first places they will hit because of its importance as a machine-tool producing center (later I learn that people in Rhode Island were told the same thing, their reason was the naval bases and access to New England. People in Plattsburgh were told IT would be hit because of the Air Force Base.). My father, never sympathetic to the fears of his children says "If the Russians were bombing Rockford you'd be doing more than just hearing them. It's a thunderstorm." I ask if I can get in bed with them. My mother very begrudgingly allows me about 6" of space between herself and the edge of the bed. I can't get back to sleep easily but eventually doze off until the storm subsides, then I go back to my own bed, relieved but not convinced we're safe. At night in Rockford from our front steps I can hear the hum of the factories and see the glow of the city. It is not comforting to me.
5. I am sitting in the cure chair, also called the Saranac chair, on the porch of our new boathouse. It is June and few, if any of the camps on the lake are occupied. Our camp has not yet been opened. It's dusk and the lake is inky dark and still. There are no bugs, there is no sound. It is slightly cool--the perfect temperature. I am wearing a large t-shirt, with bare legs. One of my dogs is lying quietly between my knees sleeping and the other is sleeping against the screen on the floor. I am reading by candlelight: there is no electricity on the porch. I have about 6 candles lit, one on each arm of the chair and the rest on the table next to me. I am the only person in the world. I am completely at peace and totally happy.
1. Biloxi, Mississippi. With my brother and sister. It's hot, even though we're used to hot because we live in southern Illinois. We're chasing pieces of paper around the lawn next to the motel where we're staying. It's very exciting--very exciting. We later discover these are just blank receipts, the type a waitress in a diner/restaurant carries. To me they are special, almost forbidden forms, blowing around the ground. Other memories of the trip, which was special because it was a place we went that wasn't the Adirondacks: ocean water that was the strangest color, blue-green. Bad, bad sunburns. Jelly beans hidden around the motel room for Easter, including in the dial of the telephone. New Orleans, where we went to a cemetery and I slipped on a rotten stump that was hollow in the middle. The hole there seemed to go to the middle of the earth. When my mouth hit the stump my loose tooth came out, fell into the hole and disappeared, a very dramatic moment.
2. Lying in a hospital bed. Incredible pain fills my abdomen. Burning, aching, seething pain. Beyond the stupid scale they use when they ask you how bad your pain is. Waiting for the nurse to come with my morphine. The surgeon has just spent 5 hours cutting away my uterus, what was left of the only ovary and fallopian tube I had left, and scraping away as much of my endometriosis as he could. He had to cut around my bladder and colon and vast amounts of scar tissue from two previous surgeries. The whole thing is hell and I am now incapable of having children. I am 37 years old and alone.
3. Playing in the space next to the house at Rome Avenue with my brother and sister in what we called The Little Bill Village. We built elaborate driveways for our model cars and had little tiny people who sat in the drivers' seats. We used doll house furniture to furnish their "houses." We played among the lilies of the valley plants for what seemed like hours, the three of us. vroom vroom, squatting down, kneeling down. To this day when I drive by houses nestled in the woods with a certain type of driveway I say to myself "Little Bill Village."
4. It's the middle of the night, again at Rome Avenue. Early '60's. I wake up, terrified. I hear loud BOOMs, over and over again. It's totally dark and there are no sounds coming from the house. I run from my bedroom to my parents' bedroom, wake them up. "The Russians are bombing Rockford!" We've been told in school that when the Russians attack the United States, Rockford will be one of the first places they will hit because of its importance as a machine-tool producing center (later I learn that people in Rhode Island were told the same thing, their reason was the naval bases and access to New England. People in Plattsburgh were told IT would be hit because of the Air Force Base.). My father, never sympathetic to the fears of his children says "If the Russians were bombing Rockford you'd be doing more than just hearing them. It's a thunderstorm." I ask if I can get in bed with them. My mother very begrudgingly allows me about 6" of space between herself and the edge of the bed. I can't get back to sleep easily but eventually doze off until the storm subsides, then I go back to my own bed, relieved but not convinced we're safe. At night in Rockford from our front steps I can hear the hum of the factories and see the glow of the city. It is not comforting to me.
5. I am sitting in the cure chair, also called the Saranac chair, on the porch of our new boathouse. It is June and few, if any of the camps on the lake are occupied. Our camp has not yet been opened. It's dusk and the lake is inky dark and still. There are no bugs, there is no sound. It is slightly cool--the perfect temperature. I am wearing a large t-shirt, with bare legs. One of my dogs is lying quietly between my knees sleeping and the other is sleeping against the screen on the floor. I am reading by candlelight: there is no electricity on the porch. I have about 6 candles lit, one on each arm of the chair and the rest on the table next to me. I am the only person in the world. I am completely at peace and totally happy.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Friday, June 10, 2005
Porcupine quills and thunderstorms
I suppose it was just a matter of time before Tess introduced herself to a porcupine. The other day I saw the unmistakable trail of a porcupine across the dirt road and hoped it was dragging its tail away from my house. It may have been, but last night after I heard Tess make a queer noise, sort of a bark/yelp down at the end of the driveway. I went to find her and saw her from about 25 feet with white things sticking out of her nose and chin. Could be nothing else. She was unperturbed but I didn't have the same reaction. It was Thursday night, the vet's were closed. No choice but to remove them myself. Surprisingly, she allowed me to do it. First you have to cut the ends off of the quills, which are filled with air. They won't come out unless you do that. They have small barbs at the ends so you have to yank them quickly out. Sometimes you have to use pliers to get them out. Everything fell into place so nicely (including the quills, pun intended)--I could find the needlenose pliers, Tess let me lock her head between my knees not only to cut the ends off of the quills but also to yank them out. There weren't many, maybe a dozen or so, thankfully. I only drew blood once, the one that was in her shiny chocolate nose, and she yelped when I yanked on that one. The others were in her velvety muzzle, lower lip and chin. Chances was fascinated but kept her distance from the whole operation. Jackson snored. Tess and I were very proud of ourselves. Did she learn a lesson about porcupines? Doubtful. Will the others go through the same thing? Probable. I don't think either of the other dogs will let me do what she did.
I woke in the early morning to the sound of thunder and rain, a favorite sound in the woods. We Rogers tend to be very romantic about rain storms at Silver Lake. I got stranded in my car at Ken's yesterday in a downpour. It was pouring when I pulled into his driveway, and there he was, stuck in his woodshed, waving to me. We stayed in our respective shelters until the rain let up a bit, then went into the house for our visit.
I've been doing the work of my two clerks for the past 3 days. It's work I used to do myself, for 10 years. I got tired of doing it when it was my job and I don't much like doing it now. Besides, doing the work of 3 people is very tiring and not much fun. I'd rather just do my job, which I enjoy and which keeps me too busy. They'll both be back on Monday and will be critical of how I did their work, will gleefully point out my errors, will sigh at my stupidity.
Ken and I had a nice dinner with Ann Hord Coste, a neighbor of the Rogers camp. The Hords and the Rogers have been friends for probably 70 years. Ann is the oldest of the three children in that family--she's about 62 now. Their camp is the prototype for what a camp on Silver Lake should look like. They have a caretaker, and he rakes the woods around the buildings. I've always thought that was ridiculous, but my friends Bill, Fred and Ken do the same thing. Anyway, we had dinner with Ann and it was nice. She, being a caterer is a good cook. She also drinks a lot. Alcohol abuse runs rampant on the north shore of that lake. We had lots of rum for cocktails (Ken said "Hmmm, that's different." He drinks Southern Comfort and whiskey exclusively) with wine at dinner. You really have to put your drinking boots on to socialize in my circle of friends. We're going back there for dinner on Saturday night, so we can watch the Belmont Stakes with her. She's here alone and likes to have company. Ken said she stopped by his house at least 3 times yesterday.
Our power was out for about 4 hours yesterday. It was out when I got to Ken's, which meant he had to have his SoCo with just ice, which didn't really appeal to him but he faced it well. He usually has it with hot water. yuck. When I got home I did a crossword puzzle in total silence. The pump for the fish bowl was off and I'd forgotten how silent my house is without that noise. Very peaceful.
Biggest event of the week happened on Wednesday, when I took the day off so I could mow my lawn. I borrowed Lin's self-propelled, 6 horsepower mower. I love that machine. It took me 2 1/2 hours with that machine to mow the entire lawn, which means it would have taken twice as long with mine. The grass was nearly to my knees in spots. It was awful but now looks wonderful. When I finished Jackson went right to the middle and rolled and rolled and rolled. What a sweet boy, showing his appreciation. Now I have to make my garden look like a garden. After mowing along the stone wall I discovered the lilies I planted in Henry's memory last year are thriving. My 20-year old tea rose is not thriving, however. The central bush is pretty much dead and only the runners are surviving. They're doing well but are growing out into the lawn and I don't think you can transplant them until they're a few years older. So it looks like hell right now and the rose I love to smell is gone. Time marches on. I brought it with me from Rhode Island in 1984, it grew next to my house there.
And now I have the day to do my own work. There's a bit of interlibrary loan clerical work left to do but that won't take long and then I can get back to cataloging the opera DVD's and CD's that await me. In German and Italian, but fortunately the liner notes are in English. Hooray for English.
I suppose it was just a matter of time before Tess introduced herself to a porcupine. The other day I saw the unmistakable trail of a porcupine across the dirt road and hoped it was dragging its tail away from my house. It may have been, but last night after I heard Tess make a queer noise, sort of a bark/yelp down at the end of the driveway. I went to find her and saw her from about 25 feet with white things sticking out of her nose and chin. Could be nothing else. She was unperturbed but I didn't have the same reaction. It was Thursday night, the vet's were closed. No choice but to remove them myself. Surprisingly, she allowed me to do it. First you have to cut the ends off of the quills, which are filled with air. They won't come out unless you do that. They have small barbs at the ends so you have to yank them quickly out. Sometimes you have to use pliers to get them out. Everything fell into place so nicely (including the quills, pun intended)--I could find the needlenose pliers, Tess let me lock her head between my knees not only to cut the ends off of the quills but also to yank them out. There weren't many, maybe a dozen or so, thankfully. I only drew blood once, the one that was in her shiny chocolate nose, and she yelped when I yanked on that one. The others were in her velvety muzzle, lower lip and chin. Chances was fascinated but kept her distance from the whole operation. Jackson snored. Tess and I were very proud of ourselves. Did she learn a lesson about porcupines? Doubtful. Will the others go through the same thing? Probable. I don't think either of the other dogs will let me do what she did.
I woke in the early morning to the sound of thunder and rain, a favorite sound in the woods. We Rogers tend to be very romantic about rain storms at Silver Lake. I got stranded in my car at Ken's yesterday in a downpour. It was pouring when I pulled into his driveway, and there he was, stuck in his woodshed, waving to me. We stayed in our respective shelters until the rain let up a bit, then went into the house for our visit.
I've been doing the work of my two clerks for the past 3 days. It's work I used to do myself, for 10 years. I got tired of doing it when it was my job and I don't much like doing it now. Besides, doing the work of 3 people is very tiring and not much fun. I'd rather just do my job, which I enjoy and which keeps me too busy. They'll both be back on Monday and will be critical of how I did their work, will gleefully point out my errors, will sigh at my stupidity.
Ken and I had a nice dinner with Ann Hord Coste, a neighbor of the Rogers camp. The Hords and the Rogers have been friends for probably 70 years. Ann is the oldest of the three children in that family--she's about 62 now. Their camp is the prototype for what a camp on Silver Lake should look like. They have a caretaker, and he rakes the woods around the buildings. I've always thought that was ridiculous, but my friends Bill, Fred and Ken do the same thing. Anyway, we had dinner with Ann and it was nice. She, being a caterer is a good cook. She also drinks a lot. Alcohol abuse runs rampant on the north shore of that lake. We had lots of rum for cocktails (Ken said "Hmmm, that's different." He drinks Southern Comfort and whiskey exclusively) with wine at dinner. You really have to put your drinking boots on to socialize in my circle of friends. We're going back there for dinner on Saturday night, so we can watch the Belmont Stakes with her. She's here alone and likes to have company. Ken said she stopped by his house at least 3 times yesterday.
Our power was out for about 4 hours yesterday. It was out when I got to Ken's, which meant he had to have his SoCo with just ice, which didn't really appeal to him but he faced it well. He usually has it with hot water. yuck. When I got home I did a crossword puzzle in total silence. The pump for the fish bowl was off and I'd forgotten how silent my house is without that noise. Very peaceful.
Biggest event of the week happened on Wednesday, when I took the day off so I could mow my lawn. I borrowed Lin's self-propelled, 6 horsepower mower. I love that machine. It took me 2 1/2 hours with that machine to mow the entire lawn, which means it would have taken twice as long with mine. The grass was nearly to my knees in spots. It was awful but now looks wonderful. When I finished Jackson went right to the middle and rolled and rolled and rolled. What a sweet boy, showing his appreciation. Now I have to make my garden look like a garden. After mowing along the stone wall I discovered the lilies I planted in Henry's memory last year are thriving. My 20-year old tea rose is not thriving, however. The central bush is pretty much dead and only the runners are surviving. They're doing well but are growing out into the lawn and I don't think you can transplant them until they're a few years older. So it looks like hell right now and the rose I love to smell is gone. Time marches on. I brought it with me from Rhode Island in 1984, it grew next to my house there.
And now I have the day to do my own work. There's a bit of interlibrary loan clerical work left to do but that won't take long and then I can get back to cataloging the opera DVD's and CD's that await me. In German and Italian, but fortunately the liner notes are in English. Hooray for English.
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
WHEW!
If last week was any indication of what the summer is going to be like, it'll be a complicated and busy one. Linda and Erdvilas were here, and Bill was at camp a lot. I saw L & E pretty much every night, was at Ken's every evening to treat his eye, and had a complicated weekend. It went from spring to summer in 3 days. There are now leaves on all the trees, the bunchberry is in bloom, which signals the end of the spring season and the beginning of summer. Trillium is going buy and it's time to search for ladies slippers. I have spent the first night of the season in the boat house and the loons were making a HUGE amount of noise at the head of the lake. There were at least two of them and I think there may have been three.
Big news in my neighborhood is that there was a sighting of a moose and her calf just down the road from Fred's camp, about a quarter of a mile from our camp. They left hoof prints to prove their existence to those who did not see them. This is really cool and makes me look all over the place whenever I go out. Moose have a range of at least 50 miles, according to the wildlife biologist I called when I saw moose tracks in the bog a few years ago. I want to see one, really want to see one. I've only seen one at a distance, with Jenica and Jamie once on the way to Burlington.
So the weekend went like this:
Friday night out to dinner with Linda, Erdvilas and Bill at our new favorite restaurant. Although it was a whole lot of fun, I was feeling quiet and subdued. Everyone said it was because I was tired but I don't really know what it was. Maybe the union elections, maybe I was just worn out by the constant social activities of the week. We'd had a big Wednesday night dinner at Linda's. Anyway, dinner was delicious and we had a grand time and spent $200. Plenty of wine, appetizers and of course dessert. After dinner I went back to L & E's, got a jar of Manhattans and went to Ken's with them to treat his eye and visit. Then, finally, home.
Saturday morning I got up at 7:30, picked Lin up at 9 after a quick visit with her dogs and Ralph, plus a tour of her gardens. We went plant shopping at the last greenhouse on our list, one of the ones we really like. I bought some plants for me and some plants to take to the people whose gardens my dogs gravitate to when they escape. They had been there earlier in the week and I had received my second frantic, rather angry phone call of this year telling me my dogs were there, wrecking their garden. I wasn't home to receive the call, I was driving around looking for the dogs. After dropping Lin off I took the plants to said neighbors' house. They live behind a locked gate, so I walked in, carrying the plants. Jim said, "Is this a woman bearing a peace offering?" You bet, I said. They have no electricity, rely on a generator and solar power--by choice. We had a long visit, talking a lot about the dog they just adopted (two years after their beloved old dog died), who was abused, is 7 months old and beautiful but nips. They are working very hard and spending a lot of money trying to turn her into a sweet, sociable dog. She is sweet and may come around eventually. I really like the dog but sure wouldn't want to take her on as a project. Since these people are retired and relatively young they can do this. They told me a lot about their political beliefs, that the problem with the world is overpopulation, the planet is taxed beyond its capability. Everyone with one child should have an abortion when they get pregnant (OK, not quite that bad, but close). She kept saying she used to be a religionist. So that gives you some idea of what talking to her is like. I think she's pretty lonely for company, living the lifestyle he's chosen for them--he calls if "off the grid." But they're very nice and almost forgave me for my dogs bad behavior. He wants me to build a pen for my dogs. They gave me a tour of their gardens, which are totally suburban in design. Tulips in a perfect circle, flowers in neat rows. Just what we in the North Country hate to see. I give them credit, though, they are trying to cover up the scars that building in the woods makes. They planted 25 rosa rugosa bushes (which didn't look as if they took the winters too well) lining their driveway. I was really envious of those. The smell must be really wonderful, like the smell walking to the beach at Liza's.
Saturday night I STAYED HOME.
Sunday Linda, Erd., Bill, Ken and I went to a brunch in Plattsburgh. It was really good but a lot, lot, lot of food. After brunch I came to the library to get the car for my trip on Monday. Then I drove to Wilmington to meet up with book group people (only Martha showed up), then to Lin's camp for our meeting. We read Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons, a bit of a disappointment. The three of us had a grand time together, but ate way too much. After that I went to Ken's to treat his eye, then I went home at last, home at last, thank god almighty home at last.
Yesterday I drove to Canton to a network meeting about the interlibrary loan software we use in the region. I really like the people at the meeting so we had fun. Went to a great Chinese restaurant with a wonderful buffet afterwards, then came home. Started to mow my lawn at last, having borrowed Lin's wonderful, powerful, huge, self-propelled mower (as mine is still not functioning, will not function until after the 9th, when the new part is due). Of course it started to rain. HUGE disappointment.
Went to Ken's for a drink (man am I getting tired of drinking) and to treat his eye (getting tired of doing that, too). Went home, sweet home.
It's been very hot, 80's, and 60 at night. Nearly slept in the boat house last night, but for some reason there's no power at camp so it's all by candlelight in the boat house. Not really a problem but a complication. Since I had to come to work today I opted for staying home. Of course, new episodes of Six Feet Under and Entourage were the main enticements.
And today I'm at my desk, trying to figure out how I can take tomorrow off. Both clerks will be out, on their way to Geneva for a conference. Although it will be really nice to be here without them, it's supposed to be 70 and sunny, a perfect day, and I can mow my lawn. Tomorrow night I'm having dinner with Ken and Ann Hord Coste. She's now a caterer and is cooking for us. She seems to be rather proprietary about Ken, which is fine with me. She brought him a bunch of food yesterday and told him exactly how to cook it (including frozen French fries). He was really pleased and loved the food. I love it when people pay attention to him so welcome any such activity.
And now I must gas up the library car and fill some bookmobile requests, while at home one guppy is languishing and seems to be trying to die. Each time I try to scoop her up with the net she goes into denial and swims furiously to the top of the bowl, circling madly. Die, Darbert, die.
If last week was any indication of what the summer is going to be like, it'll be a complicated and busy one. Linda and Erdvilas were here, and Bill was at camp a lot. I saw L & E pretty much every night, was at Ken's every evening to treat his eye, and had a complicated weekend. It went from spring to summer in 3 days. There are now leaves on all the trees, the bunchberry is in bloom, which signals the end of the spring season and the beginning of summer. Trillium is going buy and it's time to search for ladies slippers. I have spent the first night of the season in the boat house and the loons were making a HUGE amount of noise at the head of the lake. There were at least two of them and I think there may have been three.
Big news in my neighborhood is that there was a sighting of a moose and her calf just down the road from Fred's camp, about a quarter of a mile from our camp. They left hoof prints to prove their existence to those who did not see them. This is really cool and makes me look all over the place whenever I go out. Moose have a range of at least 50 miles, according to the wildlife biologist I called when I saw moose tracks in the bog a few years ago. I want to see one, really want to see one. I've only seen one at a distance, with Jenica and Jamie once on the way to Burlington.
So the weekend went like this:
Friday night out to dinner with Linda, Erdvilas and Bill at our new favorite restaurant. Although it was a whole lot of fun, I was feeling quiet and subdued. Everyone said it was because I was tired but I don't really know what it was. Maybe the union elections, maybe I was just worn out by the constant social activities of the week. We'd had a big Wednesday night dinner at Linda's. Anyway, dinner was delicious and we had a grand time and spent $200. Plenty of wine, appetizers and of course dessert. After dinner I went back to L & E's, got a jar of Manhattans and went to Ken's with them to treat his eye and visit. Then, finally, home.
Saturday morning I got up at 7:30, picked Lin up at 9 after a quick visit with her dogs and Ralph, plus a tour of her gardens. We went plant shopping at the last greenhouse on our list, one of the ones we really like. I bought some plants for me and some plants to take to the people whose gardens my dogs gravitate to when they escape. They had been there earlier in the week and I had received my second frantic, rather angry phone call of this year telling me my dogs were there, wrecking their garden. I wasn't home to receive the call, I was driving around looking for the dogs. After dropping Lin off I took the plants to said neighbors' house. They live behind a locked gate, so I walked in, carrying the plants. Jim said, "Is this a woman bearing a peace offering?" You bet, I said. They have no electricity, rely on a generator and solar power--by choice. We had a long visit, talking a lot about the dog they just adopted (two years after their beloved old dog died), who was abused, is 7 months old and beautiful but nips. They are working very hard and spending a lot of money trying to turn her into a sweet, sociable dog. She is sweet and may come around eventually. I really like the dog but sure wouldn't want to take her on as a project. Since these people are retired and relatively young they can do this. They told me a lot about their political beliefs, that the problem with the world is overpopulation, the planet is taxed beyond its capability. Everyone with one child should have an abortion when they get pregnant (OK, not quite that bad, but close). She kept saying she used to be a religionist. So that gives you some idea of what talking to her is like. I think she's pretty lonely for company, living the lifestyle he's chosen for them--he calls if "off the grid." But they're very nice and almost forgave me for my dogs bad behavior. He wants me to build a pen for my dogs. They gave me a tour of their gardens, which are totally suburban in design. Tulips in a perfect circle, flowers in neat rows. Just what we in the North Country hate to see. I give them credit, though, they are trying to cover up the scars that building in the woods makes. They planted 25 rosa rugosa bushes (which didn't look as if they took the winters too well) lining their driveway. I was really envious of those. The smell must be really wonderful, like the smell walking to the beach at Liza's.
Saturday night I STAYED HOME.
Sunday Linda, Erd., Bill, Ken and I went to a brunch in Plattsburgh. It was really good but a lot, lot, lot of food. After brunch I came to the library to get the car for my trip on Monday. Then I drove to Wilmington to meet up with book group people (only Martha showed up), then to Lin's camp for our meeting. We read Angry Housewives Eating Bon Bons, a bit of a disappointment. The three of us had a grand time together, but ate way too much. After that I went to Ken's to treat his eye, then I went home at last, home at last, thank god almighty home at last.
Yesterday I drove to Canton to a network meeting about the interlibrary loan software we use in the region. I really like the people at the meeting so we had fun. Went to a great Chinese restaurant with a wonderful buffet afterwards, then came home. Started to mow my lawn at last, having borrowed Lin's wonderful, powerful, huge, self-propelled mower (as mine is still not functioning, will not function until after the 9th, when the new part is due). Of course it started to rain. HUGE disappointment.
Went to Ken's for a drink (man am I getting tired of drinking) and to treat his eye (getting tired of doing that, too). Went home, sweet home.
It's been very hot, 80's, and 60 at night. Nearly slept in the boat house last night, but for some reason there's no power at camp so it's all by candlelight in the boat house. Not really a problem but a complication. Since I had to come to work today I opted for staying home. Of course, new episodes of Six Feet Under and Entourage were the main enticements.
And today I'm at my desk, trying to figure out how I can take tomorrow off. Both clerks will be out, on their way to Geneva for a conference. Although it will be really nice to be here without them, it's supposed to be 70 and sunny, a perfect day, and I can mow my lawn. Tomorrow night I'm having dinner with Ken and Ann Hord Coste. She's now a caterer and is cooking for us. She seems to be rather proprietary about Ken, which is fine with me. She brought him a bunch of food yesterday and told him exactly how to cook it (including frozen French fries). He was really pleased and loved the food. I love it when people pay attention to him so welcome any such activity.
And now I must gas up the library car and fill some bookmobile requests, while at home one guppy is languishing and seems to be trying to die. Each time I try to scoop her up with the net she goes into denial and swims furiously to the top of the bowl, circling madly. Die, Darbert, die.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Beatles White Album
Is what I listened to for 40 minutes all the way to work this morning. What a great bunch of music that is. Hearing their voices is so comforting, gives me such a good feeling of my past and who I am. No bad memories, no bad feelings. Doesn't matter where or who I was when I was listening to that music, it's just the Beatles and they were wonderful. So I like that album.
I needed something nice in the car after yesterday's experience at my annual gynecological exam. I went to someone new. I've seen about 5 different people in the past 10 years--they keep leaving for different jobs. This woman is very nice and I like her, but she asked if a medical student could participate in the exam too. Sure, you have to let these people learn on someone. He was ok but it took forever--a long involved interview with long emotional discussion about endometriosis. I don't like talking about it, it turns out. He wanted to know about the pain I had with it. I had blocked that out, and dredging up that part of my life, those 10 years, made me cry. Great. Then began the exam. Each part that he did she had to repeat to make sure his conclusions were correct. OK, I can handle that. Until we got to the pap and the speculuum. He tried all three sizes and couldn't get it right, each time it was really painful and miserable, so she finally took over and bingo bango boingo it was over. I think I convinced him that gynecology is not for him. Or maybe he just needs more practice. She was really apologetic and felt terrible. But I felt worse. Anyway, the whole thing took an hour, but I did talk about my fears that my endometriosis is back (not likely, since I post-menopausal, having stopped taking hormones three years ago). Firm instructions to have a colonoscopy to identify the discomfort/pain I have that I thought was endometriosis. Yes, I need to reschedule it. Was supposed to have it just before Henry died, cancelled it last year & never set it up again, too many things have interfered.
So my ride home from Vermont was endless, even though the ferry ride was beautiful, a glide on a glassy lake. I needed to get home and put all of those memories behind me, to plant myself in my present and not my past. I had to stop at the pet store and get dog food and water conditioner (for the gups). I looked at the huge array of things for fish but bought nothing. Pondered the notion of getting another fish, now that I'm down to 3. Decided 3 is a good number and maybe that's how many I was meant to have. Don't mess with a good thing. Felt bad for the betta fish they have, each sulking alone in tiny bowls. Humans are unkind to animals, as a rule. Even though fish aren't really animals.
Last night was very festive, salmon dinner at Linda's for the Balto women, Bill, Ken and me. We had a really nice time. It was warm enough to spend lots of time on her porch, which is about 3 feet from the lake. We sat there long after dinner, listening to the peepers. We could identify at least 3 different frogs. Nice.
Couldn't sleep last night, for the 3rd night. Woke at 5 AGAIN, after only about 4 hours of sleep. Was planning to meet people in Elizabethtown to barcode their collection, so didn't leave for work on time, but discovered the barcoding trip had been cancelled so was an hour late for work. As long as I was going to be late I took the dogs for a very nice walk. That Tess is sooooo cute! She loves going for a walk in a group. Jackson sort of struggles to keep up but he loves going for walks. Chances determines the pace and is pretty much in charge (well, of course I'm the Alpha, but I don't go running off into the woods, I stay on the road). But Tess goes back and forth between Chances and me, tail held high and wagging. Very sweet.
It's hot and sunny now, due to get hotter as days progress. I think on Saturday I should go to camp and set up the boat house so I can spend the night there. Sunday is a brunch in Plattsburgh with Ken and Bill at a real restaurant, a nice break from our usual routine. Friday night Linda, Erdvilas, Bill and I are going out to dinner. Tonight Ken and I are each having a load of wood delivered (4 cords). I have to figure out exactly where I want it dumped. Life is full and good.
Is what I listened to for 40 minutes all the way to work this morning. What a great bunch of music that is. Hearing their voices is so comforting, gives me such a good feeling of my past and who I am. No bad memories, no bad feelings. Doesn't matter where or who I was when I was listening to that music, it's just the Beatles and they were wonderful. So I like that album.
I needed something nice in the car after yesterday's experience at my annual gynecological exam. I went to someone new. I've seen about 5 different people in the past 10 years--they keep leaving for different jobs. This woman is very nice and I like her, but she asked if a medical student could participate in the exam too. Sure, you have to let these people learn on someone. He was ok but it took forever--a long involved interview with long emotional discussion about endometriosis. I don't like talking about it, it turns out. He wanted to know about the pain I had with it. I had blocked that out, and dredging up that part of my life, those 10 years, made me cry. Great. Then began the exam. Each part that he did she had to repeat to make sure his conclusions were correct. OK, I can handle that. Until we got to the pap and the speculuum. He tried all three sizes and couldn't get it right, each time it was really painful and miserable, so she finally took over and bingo bango boingo it was over. I think I convinced him that gynecology is not for him. Or maybe he just needs more practice. She was really apologetic and felt terrible. But I felt worse. Anyway, the whole thing took an hour, but I did talk about my fears that my endometriosis is back (not likely, since I post-menopausal, having stopped taking hormones three years ago). Firm instructions to have a colonoscopy to identify the discomfort/pain I have that I thought was endometriosis. Yes, I need to reschedule it. Was supposed to have it just before Henry died, cancelled it last year & never set it up again, too many things have interfered.
So my ride home from Vermont was endless, even though the ferry ride was beautiful, a glide on a glassy lake. I needed to get home and put all of those memories behind me, to plant myself in my present and not my past. I had to stop at the pet store and get dog food and water conditioner (for the gups). I looked at the huge array of things for fish but bought nothing. Pondered the notion of getting another fish, now that I'm down to 3. Decided 3 is a good number and maybe that's how many I was meant to have. Don't mess with a good thing. Felt bad for the betta fish they have, each sulking alone in tiny bowls. Humans are unkind to animals, as a rule. Even though fish aren't really animals.
Last night was very festive, salmon dinner at Linda's for the Balto women, Bill, Ken and me. We had a really nice time. It was warm enough to spend lots of time on her porch, which is about 3 feet from the lake. We sat there long after dinner, listening to the peepers. We could identify at least 3 different frogs. Nice.
Couldn't sleep last night, for the 3rd night. Woke at 5 AGAIN, after only about 4 hours of sleep. Was planning to meet people in Elizabethtown to barcode their collection, so didn't leave for work on time, but discovered the barcoding trip had been cancelled so was an hour late for work. As long as I was going to be late I took the dogs for a very nice walk. That Tess is sooooo cute! She loves going for a walk in a group. Jackson sort of struggles to keep up but he loves going for walks. Chances determines the pace and is pretty much in charge (well, of course I'm the Alpha, but I don't go running off into the woods, I stay on the road). But Tess goes back and forth between Chances and me, tail held high and wagging. Very sweet.
It's hot and sunny now, due to get hotter as days progress. I think on Saturday I should go to camp and set up the boat house so I can spend the night there. Sunday is a brunch in Plattsburgh with Ken and Bill at a real restaurant, a nice break from our usual routine. Friday night Linda, Erdvilas, Bill and I are going out to dinner. Tonight Ken and I are each having a load of wood delivered (4 cords). I have to figure out exactly where I want it dumped. Life is full and good.
I just ran spellcheck on this. The only match you get for Erdvilas is hardboiled. Somehow that seems strangely appropriate.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Beautiful sunny day. After many days of indecisive weather, we are now facing a string of warm and sunny days. Too warm by the weekend, temps in the 80's. I don't care for that, I prefer 70 and clear. Am not good in heat.
My 5 day break was not as productive as I'd hoped but I had a good time. Finally got myself to address the back of the house, the library, where all the stuff of the past year has accumulated. Yesterday I took 4 bags of trash to the dump. I didn't finish the job and in some ways it looks worse than it did when I started, but I feel better about it. Progress was made, things were identified, things were thrown out. I cleaned the shower, a job I hate. I planted a lot of flowers, a job I love. I still have a lot of flowers left to plant, but they are the ones that go in the garden and I have to do a lot of weeding before the ground is ready to receive them. My containers look wonderful, though. I think I planted 5 big pots full of nice assortments. There's one I'm not particularly pleased with, but it will look ok when things grow a bit more.
I'm only working until 11:30 today, then it's off to Burlington for my annual gynecological exam. I'm seeing someone new this year. I haven't had a regular person for some time, every time I see someone she seems to move on. When I first moved here I had the most wonderful doctor, a reproductive endocrinologist who performed my two surgeries. He eventually became president of the hospital, however, and is now an administrator. I need him back, I need to have someone who knows a lot about endometriosis examine me. I'll have this woman do a thorough exam to see if/where I have endometriosis. I don't see how it could be possible to still have any active sites, but it's such an insidious disease that you just never know. Anyway, a sunny ride on the ferry is on my agenda, and getting home earlier than usual.
Tonight my friend Linda is cooking dinner for Ken, the women from Balto and me. A nice break for me, although I cooked Ken's dinner last night because he seemed a bit lost when I was there to put drops in his eye. I stayed with him for 2 hours, then went to Linda's for a long visit. I didn't get to bed until nearly 1:00, then awoke at 5 and couldn't get back to sleep. I'm a bit hazy today and hope to sleep for an hour when I get home. I can sleep on the ferry, for the 20 minutes it takes to cross the lake.
I finally finished the recording of Tom Wolfe's latest book this morning. I think it was 25 CD's. It was good, but not THAT good. Then I listened to Pink. That took me back to the schoolhouse last June and the activities of The Tribe. Starting the days off with a game of Twister. Sitting around the table, sitting on the deck. In spite of it all we had a nice time together.
Tomorrow we go to Elizabethtown to barcode their collection. It's a really nice library and I think we'll finish up barcoding there. Friday I'll spend the day in a workshop learning Power Point. Monday I go to Canton to a meeting on the interlibrary loan software we use in the region, analyzing its use and planning its future. Someday I'll return to my regular job.
My 5 day break was not as productive as I'd hoped but I had a good time. Finally got myself to address the back of the house, the library, where all the stuff of the past year has accumulated. Yesterday I took 4 bags of trash to the dump. I didn't finish the job and in some ways it looks worse than it did when I started, but I feel better about it. Progress was made, things were identified, things were thrown out. I cleaned the shower, a job I hate. I planted a lot of flowers, a job I love. I still have a lot of flowers left to plant, but they are the ones that go in the garden and I have to do a lot of weeding before the ground is ready to receive them. My containers look wonderful, though. I think I planted 5 big pots full of nice assortments. There's one I'm not particularly pleased with, but it will look ok when things grow a bit more.
I'm only working until 11:30 today, then it's off to Burlington for my annual gynecological exam. I'm seeing someone new this year. I haven't had a regular person for some time, every time I see someone she seems to move on. When I first moved here I had the most wonderful doctor, a reproductive endocrinologist who performed my two surgeries. He eventually became president of the hospital, however, and is now an administrator. I need him back, I need to have someone who knows a lot about endometriosis examine me. I'll have this woman do a thorough exam to see if/where I have endometriosis. I don't see how it could be possible to still have any active sites, but it's such an insidious disease that you just never know. Anyway, a sunny ride on the ferry is on my agenda, and getting home earlier than usual.
Tonight my friend Linda is cooking dinner for Ken, the women from Balto and me. A nice break for me, although I cooked Ken's dinner last night because he seemed a bit lost when I was there to put drops in his eye. I stayed with him for 2 hours, then went to Linda's for a long visit. I didn't get to bed until nearly 1:00, then awoke at 5 and couldn't get back to sleep. I'm a bit hazy today and hope to sleep for an hour when I get home. I can sleep on the ferry, for the 20 minutes it takes to cross the lake.
I finally finished the recording of Tom Wolfe's latest book this morning. I think it was 25 CD's. It was good, but not THAT good. Then I listened to Pink. That took me back to the schoolhouse last June and the activities of The Tribe. Starting the days off with a game of Twister. Sitting around the table, sitting on the deck. In spite of it all we had a nice time together.
Tomorrow we go to Elizabethtown to barcode their collection. It's a really nice library and I think we'll finish up barcoding there. Friday I'll spend the day in a workshop learning Power Point. Monday I go to Canton to a meeting on the interlibrary loan software we use in the region, analyzing its use and planning its future. Someday I'll return to my regular job.
| You Were Actually Born Under: |
| You Should Have Been Born Under: |
You are most compatible with a Dragon or Monkey. |
Apparently 1952 was the year of nothing. Nice to know I'm clever--it hasn't always suited me well. Good to be loyal, and that I treat my friends well.
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