A single pink ray

Shooting straight up into the northern sky was what I saw this morning on my way to work. It was very, very pretty. I don't understand what that ray was doing there, but the outline of Lyon Mountain was crisp and clear against a pink-sky background and the mountain was a gorgeous shade of blue. It was beautiful and I felt very lucky to live here, where my commute allows me to see things like that. It was 62 this morning, a record-breaking temperature. Although it's wonderful to have it so warm, it feels very freaky. We're due lots of rain today and there are flood warnings galore due to melting snow. My snow melted yesterday, thank you very much.

My sump pump continues to pump. It must have the equivalent of 150,000 miles on it now. There are pinhole leaks in the hose so it sprays water all over the place every time it comes on. I have to take the hose off to measure the size of the opening in order to get a replacement hose (they have to cut the replacement hose to the length I want--the whole thing is very intimidating to me), and it will take about two hours just to get the hose, which means the pump can't pump for that long, which means the cellar will be filling with water all that time and so the snake will be swallowing its tail. Or maybe it's all an excuse so I won't have to deal with it. After all, I re-wired the floodlight on my deck, what more should I have to do in the name of Responsible Homeowner this month? I bought a new fixture to replace the one at the foot of the stairs, which has been a bare bulb without a globe for more than 10 years. Now I just have to re-wire it. Purchasing is always the easy part, isn't it.

Thanksgiving, let's see. Trip to Rhode Island was fine. Not much traffic. Listened to Robert James Waller (OK, I know, I should be embarrassed, but it wasn't total crap, and not even that bad) on the way down. I think it was High Plains Tango. Lots of stuff about a guy rebuilding a house, which was the most stimulating part of the book. Listened to Anita Diamant's latest book on the way home. Yes, of course that was way better. About the North Shore of Boston in the early 1800's. This after having just listened to Myla Goldberg's Wickett's Remedy, about the flu epidemic of 1918. Oh baby I'm just crankin' them out. When you drive 60 miles a day just to get to and from work there's plenty of time to listen to books. Lucky thing I work in a library.

Anyway, Thanksgiving was nice. Very quiet. Three of us at the table. I had told everyone that my morning would be like this: I would get up at 7:30 and my mother would be cooking celery and onions for the stuffing, even though we wouldn't be eating until late afternoon. Guess what time I got up? Guess what my mother was doing? At least I know what to expect from my holidays. It seems to be really hard for my mother to cook Thanksgiving dinner now, not surprising, since she's almost 80. So we cooked it together and it took most of the day. We had a good time. Mark was at work until noon and we started eating around 2. I made the most delicious daiquiris, using Key lime juice in the silver cocktail shaker that belonged to my great-grandfather. I ate so much that I felt truly ill. Mark and I took my dogs for a really nice walk at dusk--all 4 of us enjoyed it a whole lot.

We went shopping in real stores on Friday. A huge Barnes & Noble, Williams Sonoma and a catalog outlet store that Mark really likes. That was more than Liza wanted to do so then we went home. We had a good time and Mark liked it a lot. We have a tradition of going Christmas shopping together on Friday so it was important to Mark to do that. Liza doesn't like it, but I need to get to some real stores, so what the hell. Saturday we all did nothing. I read all day, finishing the book our book group read this month. I had listened to it last year and really liked it so it was fun to read it. An interesting perspective, like seeing the movie then reading the book. It was Ann-Marie MacDonald's The way the crow flies, truly an excellent book. So much about my childhood in there, The Bay of Pigs, duck and cover, early 60's stuff. From a Canadian perspective.

So book group met last night. Good time for all. Martha is very pregnant but not done yet. Another month to go. We're all enjoying her pregnancy immensely. We had a few presents for her last night, including the most wonderful, soft and colorful bunting that Lin made. I knit a blanket. I love knitting blankets and other baby things. We had a good discussion of the book and lots of fun talking to each other.

And now I'm settled into work. Cataloging, dealing with the two piles of donations and problem books that are on my desk. The director wants me to amend and edit the list of relevant collection development websites she emailed me last week. I didn't realize that's what she wanted me to do with the list so I ignored it. BIG mistake.

I think I might actually put up a Christmas tree this year. It's been 3 years since I've had one. It's an incredible amount of work to do by myself, and usually no one ever sees it. This year, though, my friends in book group will be coming to my house so at least someone else will see it. I have to move furniture to the back of the house to make room for the tree, and a tree is heavy to haul in and put up alone. I love looking at the tree, though, and I have a whole lot of ornaments that remind me of my life and how I've lived it. Tons of ornaments from when I lived in Rhode Island, which is the time I consider I became an adult, from ages 22-31. Lots of things my friends and my mother have given me over the years too. And let's face it, a tree with lights on it just looks really pretty. I may even run an extension cord out to the tree in the woods that has lights on it, who knows. Hell, let's have Christmas at my house this year!