And now I'll go home, finished with old, dirty, boring and irrelevant cookbooks (the best of Yankee Magazine's 1988 contest, Saratoga Senior Center's cookbook from 1997) and lots of Jove paperback romances from Tupper Lake. I'm tired and I miss my brother. He would think what I do for a living is funny. I usually do too. I will go home and stare at my woods, my view that he created and think about the digging in the dirt I plan to do and it will remind me of him, always of him. The lilies I planted the year he died are coming up strong and tall this year. I will have all the privacy I need to think about him, to mourn, to laugh, to hear his guidance as I work on my gardens and figure out what to do with all that awful marjoram that's taken over everywhere. I'll explain to him this year's plan and my optimism that this, finally will work. He would find it entertaining, as would my father. I know I needed this day to mourn as well as to work with the soil, it's been a long time coming. I've been thinking of him so much and holding it all in because other things were going on. And now along with my joy will be my pain of missing him and wishing he could help me, laugh with me, guide me, share with me, boast to me--all these things about the earth, the gardens, the outdoors.

Wish me luck.

Puppy on a plate
Although I don't approve of the practice, when I'm finished with my dinner I let the dogs lick my plate. I got up from my seat the other night and Tess apparently wanted to make a statement (or share her bounty with Puppy, her beloved stuffed toy recently discovered in the yard when the snow melted). Hence Puppy on a plate. There's a Los Lobos song called "Saint behind the glass" and I keep substituting "Puppy on a plate" for the words.

Sunny and beautiful today. I've already been reprimanded--well, that's a bit strong, let's just say my performance at yesterday's meeting with the correctional librarians wasn't complimented. I was told by the director what I should have said and what I should not have said, and how I should not have said what I did say. She admitted that she didn't have time to tip me off. I admitted I was not pleased with the way things went, but told her she wasn't familiar with one of the principals involved, a known liar who was fired as director of one of our member libraries and who attacked me during the meeting with some absurdly petty untruth. Anyway, water over the bridge, under the dam, etc. She told me she wants a different approach taken at the meeting with member library directors on Monday. "I'm going to that meeting?" Aren't you? "I hadn't planned on it but I'd be happy to if you want me to. Where is it?" Chateaugay. "OK, I'll go." So I guess I'll be going to Chateaugay on Monday. There are worse places to go but not many.

Hoping to have tomorrow off but still have not received final approval. Have a long list of chores that includes cutting blackberry brambles, planting things I ordered and purchased in RI, cleaning inside of car, covering garden and things you've all heard before. Want to get at it! Sat. and Sunday are supposed to be sunny and 50's so what I don't get done tomorrow I can continue to work on then. Must also address the firewood issue--it's scattered in two places and needs to be stacked and covered. I have about 1.5 cords left, maybe 2. I have to order more, want to get it now so it will have time to dry properly. Wanted to wait until the end of mud season. OK, that's done. Now I just need the money. MONEY--it's always about MONEY.

Today I finish cataloging children's books for Westport and do the old, pathetic cookbooks Schroon Lake sent me last week. They've all adopted the idea we suggested of sending us the actual items to work from. We meant videos, CD's, audios, older books, but they're so lazy they just want to send us EVERYTHING so they don't have to write up the "request for MARC records" forms. This week we got a box of current large print books from one library. Morons. Or as Mark would say, maroons.

I'm hot. It's actually hot in the building today. Hooray! I'm not wearing a sweater and I'm too warm. I got my house wicked hot last night, up to 77, and felt drugged so fell asleep on the couch. Ken came for dinner and I wanted to be sure it was warm enough for him. Of course, he came at 6 and it didn't get really warm until 8, after he'd left. Then my fire kicked in. It was awful. He had a nice time, good food (salt-free) and a nice visit. He didn't bring his SoCo so we had rum and water and he thought that was quite tasty. Even had a little bit more. Can't hate that Mount Gay. I had a little bit of a head start because I was so stressed after the correctional meeting from 3:30-4:15, plus hustling to get ready for him by 5:45. I don't handle stress very well lately. That's why I want tomorrow off--a day to myself, no trip to RI, no Sunday dinner, no cleaning the house, just a day to myself. No one at the bog for Tess to run away with.

And on to the cookbooks. Cookery, American. Cookbooks, Worthless.

Look what April showers brought
This is the bouquet of daffodils from my yard that I brought my director to celebrate her permanent appointment (the board approved a 2-year contract with her Monday night) and my pretty violas, which I got in RI at Easter. So there is life after winter in Hawkeye. We had a frost last night but it wasn't a heavy frost and everyone seems to have survived. I left the beautiful seedless watermelon I bought yesterday in my car overnight but I think it was protected enough and ill survive. I'm planning to feed it to Ken for dessert (salt-free) tonight.

The sun is shining brightly and it's a very pretty day. There are actual leaves on the poplar trees in West Plattsburgh now, and as I drive east on my way to work they are illuminated from behind. They look as if they are lighting up and are incredibly bright green and beautiful. I can't believe I'm looking at actual leaves. My landscape at home is very bleak right now and it's hard to tell whether it's November or April. I don't mind, though, because I know it's APRIL and good things are just about to come. I love this time of year. I'm finishing up with my reverse SADD and am feeling pretty good. I'm starting to think good thoughts (my mother used to instruct us to "think rich, beautiful thoughts"--I think that's what she really wanted to do herself) about the future. Anyway, I love seeing those little itty bitty poplar leaves in the morning, it's very magical.

Today is a data base day. I will finish up the authority work (I'm the authority around here: I get to decide what form of the author's name and what subject heading we use) I started last week, and I will do some cataloging. I will also put together yet another small book order. I'm trying to keep up with ordering because spring is a really busy publishing time and I'm a little behind in my spending and will not spend much in the summer when there's nothing to buy.

I will, I will, I will. Oh I always have such high hopes for a day, don't I?

Girl pussy willows
This is what the female pussy willows look like when they bloom. If you have allergies your eyes are probably watering at the sight of it. I read recently that, if you plant one of these, within a few months it would grow to be a yard high. I now feel obligated to try it. I found a sapling about 3 feet high next to my pussy willow tree. I have a lovely pussy willow tree, with three parts to it, but in the fall we had an early storm with a foot of heavy wet snow. The sap in the trees hadn't frozen yet so a lot of trees broke. The main trunk of my tree snapped. The males on the central trunk bravely bloomed anyway but I think I have to cut off the broken trunk anyway--bad to have so much heartwood exposed.

Rainy and cold today. I stayed for the board meeting last night, then went out to dinner with my friends Donna and Fred, who are on the board. We laughed a lot, especially about the previous director. I got home around 8 and the house was 59. I didn't want to start a fire so I dragged out a small ceramic electric heater and propped it up on the coffee table in front of me and huddled around it like a refugee. What a dork. Tess lay on my lap and cooked herself to medium rare. I finally got the living room up to 67 before going to bed. Tonight I will bring in firewood and kindling and get a nice warm fire going.

Ken's problem turned out to be fluid in his legs, caused by eating too much canned food with too much salt in it. I think this is quite funny because His Son Karl brought him all those cans of food and nagged and bullied him into eating them. Before that Ken was doing fine cooking for himself and eating the right amount of the right things. We don't like Karl, no we don't. Ken seemed very old and very frail yesterday. I don't want to be 90, I just don't want to last that long.

I have to meet with the librarians from the correctional facilities this afternoon. They suffer and whine a lot. There are 8 of them. My department is funded a lot ($40,000) to provide interlibrary loan service to them. We figured out that, using the national standard figures for the costs of lending and borrowing, we provide them with $82,000 worth of service. Stick that in your handcuffs, people. I'm just sick of filling requests for inmates who want everything, are never guilty of the crimes they've been convicted of, and steal or rip apart the books we borrow for them. Bitter old lady librarian. Just put a bunch of crap in front of me to catalog today, that would be your best bet.

Sometimes you want the whole enchilada
Anything is better than nada--or is it? I forgot my camera this morning, so this file photo will have to do. It's my friend Linda's Upper Camp. Her Lower Camp is right on the water, but this camp was built first, in the 1920's by a rum runner named Thwaits (the "h" is silent). He built this place first, then realized his folly and built Lower Camp right on water--literally, the building is about 4' from the water line.

It rained steadily from Sat. afternoon until last night. I cleaned house because I hosted book group yesterday. I put my big ivy plant outside so it could get washed off and it just looks really happy sitting on the deck, as if it really belongs there. It can't stay there because it'll get sunburned, but it spends its summers outside on the birdfeeder platform. I also planted my violas in a pretty hand-thrown dish that broke and is glued back together so I can't use it for anything else. They look really pretty. The house is about as clean as it gets. I even dusted. I washed the top and front of the fish tank and the platys about had heart attacks. I've never seen more nervous fish (that's not true: trout are the most nervous fish there are, you can't show them your shadow or they're gone).

I'm thinking of taking Friday off, if it's sunny because I really need to pull blackberry brambles and cover the yucky garden bed that's gone to hell with wild oregano/marjoram, where I'd like to put in a few tomato plants and maybe some cucumbers.

Now I have to meet Ken to take him to the doctor, then I said we could go out for coffee, which he interpreted as going out to breakfast, so I guess I'll be away from work for at least an hour & a half. Well, you do what you can to make people feel good.

Beauty and beast
This is my new haircut, fresh from the beauty parlor. And the beauty portion of the program is a flower called squill. I planted some bulbs about 10 years ago--I think I got them free with an order of daffodils and didn't know what they were. Here they are, all these years later, blooming away. They're about 5" high and very fragrant, but you have to lie down on your stomach to smell them.

Another banner day here, sunny and 65. Our van driver is wearing shorts today. I'm waiting to hear from Ken because he was going to try to make an appointment with his doctor. There's something wrong with his legs and I encouraged him to have the doctor look at them. He wouldn't really go unless I agreed to go with him. It seems like small thing to do to help a very nice man.

You Are Sunrise

You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

What Time Of Day Are You?

The only thing I don't like about cooking for friends is the cleaning that goes with it when I have them at my house. When I entertain at camp it's generally clean so I can just cook and let everyone visit while I play hostess. Yes, I like being the hostess while everyone enjoys visiting with each other. I guess I do start and end my days by looking inward, though I never thought of it that way. "Quiet contemplation" would be more like it--I like to lie in bed an stare into space. As for making people happy, doesn't everyone like to do that?

Look out world, I'm coming

Below is a list of titles to be reviewed in Library Journal’s May 15, 2006 issue, organized by subject as the reviews will appear in the magazine. The list includes pertinent publisher and bibliographic information for your convenience.

Prentice, Jessica. Full Moon Feast: Food and the Hunger for Connection. Chelsea Green. 2006. c.368p. index. ISBN 1-933392-00-2. pap. $25. COOKERY

This is from an email alert I get from Library Journal every 2 weeks telling me what's going to be reviewed in the next issue. What they don't say, however is that I wrote the review of this book. Not the first published review I've had--I used to write reviews for Public Libraries all the time, but LJ has a much wider circulation and is actually used for collection development by lots of librarians. This is the second review I've submitted to them, but I didn't give the book a glowing review so maybe that's why they published it so maybe that's why they're publishing it (they didn't run my first review, of The storm gourmet, which was a strange little book that told you to gather up the grapefruits from your neighbor's lawn in the event of a weather emergency so you could feed yourself).
Anyway, look for me soon in a library near you.

Two of my favorites
This is Ken and Duncan. Duncan is a former camper who now owns (with another former camper) one of the two camps that's just below my house. This is a copy of a picture taken by David (another camper) last year on the porch of our camp, when I had Duncan and David come for Sunday dinner. Duncan and David come every year, along with some other men for "Workfest," a long weekend in the spring to get the camp ready for the summer. They are all incredibly cute in the way they interact with each other. I love being around them and the way they allow me to be sort of an honorary member of their group. I don't share their history as a camper, but I share their history of the lake and I remember lots of stuff about their camp. We used to sit in our canoe on the water and watch and listen to their dances on Saturday nights. Who knew it was Linda and Bill who were the emcees for those dances, whose voices I was listening to announcing "Now the next dance will be Ladies' Choice!" Anyway, of all the men who come Duncan and David are my favorites. They are both incredibly cute and wonderful and are really nice to Ken. They appreciate him in ways I really like to see. Plus they appreciate me in ways I like to be appreciated. They make a special visit in the late fall, just the two of them, pretending that it's "Extreme Workfest," but they never really get much work done, they usually just have a really good time. David has his own business in computer graphics something and he once took a picture of Duncan and Bill sitting in the living room of Duncan's camp and put Bush and Rumsfeld's heads on the bodies, with a small framed photo of Cheney hanging on the wall. It's really funny. Last year he made us all t-shirts advertising Hawkeye Spring Water with a picture of the woman who owned the boys' and girls' camp (long dead) and an incredibly complicated description of the spring water (non-existent) you could buy. He's very clever. These men are all married or I would be chasing them around the block.

It's another beautiful day. Today I will finish cataloging things like a 1969 book on karate for boys and a 1972 book on stage makeup for the Tupper Lake library. And these are leftover from their "massive weeding project."

Have a nice day, Tess

This is where Tess spends the day while I'm at work. She doesn't seem to mind a bit: when I say "Get in your cage" she runs around the corner and goes right into her cage. When I come home she's sitting in her cage, watching me come in the door. Lots of times Chances will sleep in the cage when I'm at home. It used to be Chances' cage and before that it belonged to Dexter The Very Bad Dog.

It's 70 degrees and sunny outside. A wonderful day. I can't believe April is nearly over. I have yard work to do and housework to do. Book group is meeting at my house on Sunday and I need to clean a lot before they can come. Even if they are my good friends there's still a limit to just how much mess I'm willing to expose them to.

Last night Ken told me that Friday night Rush showed up at his house with a handful of ice that was the last ice on the lake and a bottle of bourbon. They put the ice in glasses and poured the bourbon over it to celebrate Ice Out. The ice went out on 4/14/06. That's a little early. I saw the lake in the morning of the day it went out. You all saw a picture of it. Ken was very excited to have me home. He knew exactly what time I arrived in Hawkeye on Monday because his neighbor had seen me drive by. This was not good because I was planning to tell Ken I got home too late Mon. to call him, when I really got home at 4:30. Instead I told him I was really tired and that's why I didn't call. Well, that was pretty much true, but I still feel guilty for not calling him. Not very guilty but a little.

I took my car to the dealer this morning so I could pay them $340 to check the belts and hoses and top off the fluids. I suppose they'll do some other stuff, but this is the 30,000 mile check up and it seems to me they don't really do much to it. Rotate the tires. I asked them to get the caked on mud off of the bottom of the car. He said they'd wash it for me, and he wrote on the work slip "remove caked on mud." Then this really nice but extremely talkative kid gave me a ride to the library. I know pretty much his life's story now, and he's coming to pick me up when my car's ready this afternoon. He has a 13-week old chocolate Lab named Duke. And an aunt named Christine who lives in Arizona. And two beagles. I don't know their names.

I had a dream last night that the ex-husband of my cousin Elsa changed his name to Sergio and liked to be called Serge. He was managing a CVS (drug store) and was doing very well. In reality he's a photojournalist who does marginally well and lives either in London or Germany now. I really wonder where this dream came from, I haven't thought of her or him in a while.

What wonderful and zany things will I catalog today?

My Easter Trip
by Betsy Rogers

This is how I started my trip: by going to camp to see how much ice was left on Good Friday morning. There was only a little bit at the foot of the lake and a little bit at the head of the lake. The mist in the picture is over the ice. When I got up at 6:30 there was a heavy fog/mist over the whole lake. It was really cool. Figuratively and literally.

I left Friday at 7:45. Rhode Island has embraced spring completely. Liza has daffodils in bloom and her forsythia is way in bloom. The redbud is in bloom, wild cherry (also called fire cherry) is in bloom, shad is in bloom. PMJ rhododendron (my least favorte magenta color) is in bloom. Magnolia trees in bloom. It's very, very pretty and was nice and warm while I was there. We had a good visit. We went plant shopping so I could get some pansies. I ended up with 2 six-packs of violas, one a beautiful dark red and the other a brilliant yellow. I will put them together in a small pot on my deck for now. Liza gave me a pot of pansies in bloom. I got to have a long conversation with my sister and another with her daughter. That was really nice: they both sounded great. Anna is a real peach and sounded really wonderful. She's getting ready for college and will be 20 later this week. I can't believe she'll be 20 (and neither can she). Liza, Mark and I had a lot of fun together. I love sleeping in the back room at my mother's house. There are skylights above the bed and I can see the stars and moon as I lie there. The dogs were pretty well behaved but Chances ate the chocolate candy that was shaped like carrots and some chocolate eggs as well. Then she puked up a bunch of little tin foil bundles, each one separate as if her stomach had unwrapped each piece of chocolate. That made me laugh. I bought 10 leashes at the Dollar Store. Those should last a while (Tess chews leashes really fast when I turn my back unless I hide them and I always forget to hide them).

When I got home my daffodils were a whole lot higher. My tomato seeds have started to germinate and my cosmos are 1.5 inches high. My asters are just coming up. Maples are in bloom more. I saw from the register at the bog that my friend Rush was here for the weekend. Now I'm off to Upper Jay to barcode more books, taking 4 laptops and 4 people. It's a beautiful day.

Our beach walk on Sunday in the sunshine. It was a beautiful day and the ocean was a perfect blue. It's a little turquoise in these pictures but that's the camera, I think. There weren't very many people. These are the people Chances decided should be her people for the day. She walked with them instead of with us. She swam in the ocean for the first time and did get washed along by a small wave. My mother turned her back on that, she hates it when the dogs swim in the ocean. Tess was very well behaved on her new restraining device (leash).

This is what's left of the pavillion. There used to be walkways on either side, extending out so you could walk or wheel your wheelchair along the beach and look out over the beach and at the ocean. There was a big storm in the fall that washed them away and they took down what was left of them. It looks pretty funny this way, I think. There wasn't much beach left in front of the pavillion but now at least there's a little beach left. This is where we have our dinner beach picnics in the summer, so it's very important to have a beach!

Flowers Mark arranged for a job her has--he takes arrangements to a satellite campus of URI every week, plus he does it for weddings, meetings, receptions, etc. We weren't sure what these were for but we think they were for a wedding. They just told him they had to be orange.

Mark and Liza preparing the Easter meal.

And the Easter table. We had ham, mashed potatoes and asparagus. Our traditional Easter meal. I told Mark the roses reminded me of the color of my sister's room in the first house we lived in in Rockford (Ill.). Notice the forsythia bush (huge) in bloom outside the doors.

Protection Alley
This is the view from the chair in front of the director's desk. I have spent countless hours staring at it. It really is called Protection Alley. There's a bar at the end of it called The Monopole. They used to serve the best hamburgers in town and I'd go there with one particular sales rep for lunch every time he came. Now they don't serve food anymore. It's a college bar. Anyway, I used to stare out the window at this view every time I got called into the director's office to be told what an awful person I was. There must have been an imprint of my tightly-clenched butt cheeks in that chair. Now I look a the director instead and she usually tells me what a good job I've done or we discuss each other's ideas. I haven't looked at the view for several months. It's a surprisingly urban view for a small town like Plattsburgh, which is why I always liked it--it's such an anomaly.

It's cloudy and gray today, supposed to rain this morning. I have a terrible sinus headache, so bad that my whole body aches. I got a terrible night's sleep, having fallen asleep on the couch at 9:30, gone to bed at midnight and got up at 6. Didn't have to be at work until 9 but got here at 8:15 anyway--nothing else to do, having watched the morning news, showered, played with the dogs, watched the snail climb up the front of the tank, made my sandwich and fed the birds. Today I will force myself to catalog the dregs (how many dregs can there be? you ask yourselves).

Yesterday I sent in my NY State taxes for 2004 and 2005. I owed $250 for 2004, which is why I filed an extension last year. I get back $150 for 2005, so should have filed them much sooner. Anyway it's done. I will get a bill for penalty and interest for 2004, about the amount of the refund for 2005. I'm an asshole about these taxes but have straightened out and will not make the same mistake again.

I had strange dreams last night. First I was an integral part of Law & Order: SVU, pairing up with Elliot (where was Olivia?). We were just starting to have an affair. We got his truck stuck in the mud, but not to worry, he had 4WD and got us out. Oh to have a man with a 4WD truck! His young daughter (never mind that on the show his children are now nearly adult) would have nothing to do with him but I convinced her that Daddy was ok. She also called my friend Fred on the phone. Molly was with us too, serving boat drinks. I love it when my television life overlaps my real life--yes, I know I watch too much television. Then my dream switched to Montreal and I was with Bill and Fred. We got stuck in the raging waters of the St. Lawrence River but this time Bill couldn't rescue us because his car was washed away while we watched helplessly. Yes, I have a vehicle fetish. I'm going on a trip tomorrow and will be driving my car that still has mud impacted on the undercarriage and vibrates tremendously at high speeds and needs an oil change. I feel as if I'm betraying it by driving it 700 miles in this condition. I'm not sure what the part about Elliot was all about, except that I think I slept though SVU while I was on the couch last night. These dreams had a lot to do with the headache I woke up with this morning, I'm convinced. It was like sensory overload.

Last night I had dinner with Ken but I left early because he stoked his fire and it was so hot that I was sweating like mad and I just couldn't stand it. He was very disappointed that I left at 7:30, but I was starting to feel ill and he wanted me to read Time magazine while he read Adirondack Life and I just couldn't, I just couldn't. It was so hot. I went home, where it was nice and cool.

I've hooked up with the Music Genome Project at Pandora.com, where you compile a list of your favorite musical artists and songs and through the magical work of algorithms and computers you listen to music that sounds like them, as well as the actual favorites once in a while. It's interesting and a nice change from LAUNCHcast, which is starting to play my same favorites over and over. The nice thing about Pandora is that you can stop the song if you don't like it.
And of course it's free.

I'm listening to Sue Monk Kidd's The mermaid chair while I drive now. Some people liked it, some didn't. They said it was weird and not like her earlier stuff. I'll see for myself, I guess.

Found out you can shop from Ikea online. Very exciting! But shipping is outrageously expensive. I ordered a new lamp for my bedroom, more candles and some really cool glasses. 18 glasses, a combination of wine and drinking, for $9.99. Can't hate that action. Maybe that's why shipping is so expensive. I'm doing a shopping binge, which is a symptom of my manic phase. Time to stop. I only buy things on sale or things that don't cost much, but the total ends up being too much. At least I don't go totally crazy when I'm manic and try to save the world, I only spend a few hundred dollars.

Oh to be redeemed

Of course, I could only be redeemed here if I were a bottle or a can. This redemption center is right next to a church, though. The sign under and behind the big sign says "Touch lamps $9.99." Modern technology comes to the North Country.

Today's pick

The Saranac River, on my way home. It's running April high. It looks cold, not full of hope and good things to come.

Sign of spring

I drove all the way around the circle of my driveway this morning. Haven't done that since probably December. I (obviously) drove to the house last night. I bought 20 lbs of dog food and had tons of stuff I needed to unload besides that, figured the mud was semi-soft. I'm not known for my patience when it comes to snow or mud. I did all right, barely sunk in. I cleaned out the car but did not wash the mud or dog snot from the interior. Perhaps tonight. There is still mud stuck to the undercarriage, it still has palsy but not as bad at 60. The dogs didn't seem to bark as much when looking out the window--maybe they find it reassuring to have the car there, I don't know.

I got home late last night, not until 6:30. Stayed here late, cataloging & visiting. Took a long time shopping at PetSmart (dog biscuits and squeaky toy as a hostess gift for Rhode Island, plus a neat pond plant for Liza's Easter gift). Did no outdoor work at all, disappointing myself. Got a good fire going, though, nice and hot. Have found a cache of good dry wood. I feel like a dump picker when I go through my wood, trying to find the good stuff. It doesn't help that there's a rotten old box spring lying in the middle of my wood shed.

Today I will spend the day cataloging crap for Upper Jay. It's mostly old books, cookbooks from the 70's, essays of Emerson, poems of Shelley, the American girl series published by Scholastic. Very yawn-worthy but I will plug myself into some music and it will be peaceful. I have had a large Turbo from Dunkin Donuts so I am ready to go. I had my blood drawn this morning and next week my doctor will tell me if I am still alive.

This is what sisters should look like. I couldn't resist posting this. Five points to anyone who can tell which is which. Oh no, wait--I already told you who has the blue collar. And you know who doesn't like the silver box that flashes bright light. She looks really irritated and ready to bolt from the couch. In fact she did, right after I took this picture.

Picks o' the day
Good day sunshine! or, What a difference a day makes. Crocuses don't like it when it's dark and cold. They opened up yesterday, when it was warm and sunny. This is the only patch of crocuses I could find in my whole yard.


Learn to read
It would be good if I could learn to read the clock. I kept dozing this morning after the alarm first went off at 6:15. I finally opened my eyes & glanced at the clock, sure that it said 6:30. Well, no, it said 7:15. Not good for someone who needs to leave at 7:20 at the latest. So I hustled the dogs out the door, in the door, fed them, kicked them out again, in again (second trip is the poop trip, first trip is just the pee trip, then they eat--hey, we all have our rituals). Got ready, left by 7:40. Not good, not good: new boss has a real thing about people who are late. She thinks they're dissing her. Well, it's sure nothing personal, I'm just one of those people who often has trouble being on time. I've been really good since she started, though, and have rarely been late. I snuck in the back door at 8:18 and she was none the wiser. One clerk is on vacation (the judgmental one) so it wasn't so bad after all. I more than make up that much time every day so it's not a question of giving the organization my pounds of flesh each day.

I just finished writing a personal recommendation for a friend. Those are hard to write. Who wants a personal recommendation, anyway? Those always sound fake. I did a good job, I thought. I came up with two examples of how this person was reliable, kind, supportive, blahblahblah. She desperately wants this job. This is a worthless recommendation anyway, she's supposed to bring it with her to the interview. Those are the ones you know don't count for anything. But it took me a long time to write, that's for sure.

A beautiful day today, sunny and warm. Yesterday was sunny and cool, only 50. It was 18 when I got up at 7. I built fires both Sat. and Sun. mornings. Not easy, my stove is smoking like crazy and doesn't get very hot. This is really a drag. I keep waiting for fire season to end, but that won't happen until May. I can't have the guy come to clean the stove pipe until mud season ends. One thing always depends on another, doesn't it. Anyway, Saturday was a wasted day except I cleaned the fish tank. That drove the fish into a frenzy and the snail into a death-like state. The fish recovered immediately, but the snail didn't recover for 24 hours.

Yesterday I was incredibly industrious. Spent an hour in the morning trimming the dead stalks from my rose bush, as well as cutting the blackberry brambles (my worst horticultural enemy) out of it. That was fun but I got stuck by lots of b.berry thorns. Bush looks skinny but better, really. I don't know how many blooms it will have this year. It's spreading out into the lawn now, which is better than having it die but is quite strange, really. After Sunday dinner (I was careful not to eat so much that I would be unable to function) Ken insisted I stay after Bill left, then he promptly fell asleep. I watched him sleep for about 5 minutes, then woke him to say goodbye. He insisted I stay and talk for another 10 minutes. I got home around 3 and worked on my driveway for an hour. I hate raking the driveway, but if you drive on it during mud season this is your penance. It's drying, which makes it hard to rake, and I'm not very strong anymore so it was real work. I did an ok job, not very good but better than nothing. Have repaired the major ruts, but it will not be a smooth driveway to drive on this summer. It will be dry in a couple of days.

After that I did a wonderful thing: I planted seeds. I planted tomatoes, cosmos (two kinds) and cleome. Tonight I'll plant 3 kinds of asters. I've got them in these mini-greenhouse flats and they'll take 1-2 weeks to germinate. Very exciting. Some of them will be up when I get back from RI next week. YAHOO!

Today's picks
Mud season. The tracks are on my road--someone apparently had the same thought that I did in my driveway. If you drive on the side it won't be as bad as if you drive in the middle. They too were wrong. The mud will dry and those tracks will stay there until next year.
The wallow is right in front of my house, where I got stuck last weekend. I'm not sure when I will be able to drive to my house again. One week? I'm off to Rhode Island next Friday and will most likely have to pack the car from afar, although it's supposed to be dry for the next several days. Right now my car is full of things I can't stand the thought of transporting up the (albeit small) hill to the house from the end of the driveway: potting soil, soda, dog food, stuff that's bulky or heavy. I'll have to face this before I leave, there's no room for the dogs in the back seat. Today I will take the car to the car wash to try for removal of the caked-on mud on the undercarriage. It still shakes with palsy at speeds over 50. Plus there's still mud on the window on the passenger's side. How the mud got all over the dashboard is sort of a mystery to me, but at some point I'd like to clean out the inside as well.

Gray day. Like, totally gray. But it will get above freezing and the last of the snow should melt. Later today and tomorrow it's supposed to rain. This is good for snow removal but extends mud season. Generally mud season lasts for most of the month of April. Before the town fixed my road I had to walk half a mile to my car in the morning and half a mile to my house in the evening, packing in all my stuff (including 20 lb. bags of dog food). I was 10 years younger then and though it romantic. Now I would think of it as exercise and be resentful but would force myself to enjoy it in an asthmatic way.

This afternoon I go to Keene Valley for a celebration of National Library Week with the bookmobile. We've done this twice so far this week at other libraries with incredibly dismal results. I'll be there from 4-7 and I bet we'll be lucky to have 10 people show up. Keene Valley has a very small winter population, about 500 people I think. My friend Karen, the director there is a storyteller and she'll be the entertainment. I like listening to her tell stories, she's really good.

Tomorrow I will do something really cool: I will plant seeds in the mini-greenhouse planter things I bought at Lowes. I'm looking forward to this because I love playing in the dirt and playing with seeds. Last night I looked at the forlorn window boxes I put up under my living room windows last summer. That experiment was a dismal failure. The petunias did not thrive and looked awful almost from the beginning. Maybe I'll try nasturtiums this year. It'll have to be something that can bake in the sun. I think I could bake bread in those windowboxes.

Chances continues her rebellion. Maybe she pays closer attention to the news than I realize and is upset by what Scooter Libby is revealing. Apparently yesterday I didn't latch the bedroom door tightly, and as some of you know one of her favorite acts of revenge is peeing on the bed. She must have done it early in the morning because it was the smallest puddle she's ever come up with. Of course it soaked through the bedding but it didn't hit the mattress pad. What a rat. Luckily I noticed it right when I got home so I could wash the sheets, duvet cover and comforter before going to bed. I told her she was bad but I didn't tell her I wasn't speaking to her--I just didn't speak to her. She went in the other room and sat by herself. Lucky thing the weekend is coming and I can spend some time with her, apparently she doesn't like it that I work outside of the home. Well parrrrdon me for earning a paycheck!

And now it's on to catalog some storytelling and meditation CD's. zzzzzz.

Your Famous Last Words Will Be:

"I can pass this guy."

What Will Your Famous Last Words Be?

Oh dear, not reassuring at all

Pick of the day

The Home Office. This is where I work. Italy has a much better attitude towards public buildings and what they should look like, landscaping, courtyards, etc. I remember when we planted the spruce tree in front: it was about 7 feet high. My friend Dan planted it, after digging it up from the then-director's front yard. When I contemplate it I think I should plant a tree like that at my house so I can mark the passage of time by its growth. We planted 25 spruce trees, Jamie and I, along the edge of my property. There are 3 left now. They were 6" high then--about 11 years ago. They are now 3' high. Maybe I don't want to mark the passage of time this way after all. Or else get faster-growing trees.

Still cold, still snow on the ground at my house, but it's melting and has settled. Someone with big male feet walked up to my house yesterday. I hate that, really hate that. He parked at the end of my driveway and walked right up to my house--I could see the tracks in the snow. Then he walked partway around the bottom of the circle of the driveway. I have no idea who it was or why he was poking around my house. Not the electric co. meter reader, that's computerized now. I always think I should put a sign up at the end of my driveway, No Trespassing, or Private, but then I think a) that is unfriendly and b) it just calls attention to the fact that there's a house there.

Dinner with Ken last night. I tried to explain what a euro was. I spelled it out for him but he has trouble picturing things, he needs to see them written down. He kept calling it a "zero." I decided maybe that was a better word for it anyway. E-U is just a complicated combination for Amerians to grasp.

Last night I stopped at Lowes to buy Ken some drill bits (so he could take off the walls of his wood shed: a sign of spring that has been delayed "until this cold front goes through"). While I was there I bought what I really wanted to get: planting supplies so I can plant my seeds, which came from Burpee yesterday. Can't wait, can't wait. I got special tomatoes for Ken this year, a variety that should yield bigger tomatoes. I've always supplied him with plants I get at the nursery that yield early but smaller fruit. He never complains and is grateful, but when his brother-in-law gives him the huge tomatoes from his garden I can tell Ken wishes he could compete. This year I scoured the Burpee catalog for just the right kind and ordered Steak Sandwich, which is determinate (doesn't vine) and yields big tomatoes in a relatively short period of time. Now let's hope I can get the little buggers to grow fast enough but not too fast.

I love the way a dog will let you know of her dissatisfaction with her lot in life. When I got home last night, right smack in the middle of the rug in front of the door was the demolished can of yummy fish food I had ordered online (you're supposed to give your fish a variety of food because "Just like you, fish like variety in their diet!"). Apparently Chances liked it as much as the fish did. The fish were thrilled by it and gobbled it right up when I gave it to them, but I didn't hide the can well enough and Chances found it on the counter. Whenever she's bad like that, she leaves the detritis right in front of the door. The day before it was the empty bag of Russel Stover chocolate Easter eggs (my she has good taste, doesn't she). Last night I told her I wasn't speaking to her (I've read several times you're supposed to banish bad dogs for half an hour--as if they can tell time), then greeted Tess profusely while Chances suffered incredibly on the couch. Finally, about 7 minutes later I told Chances I was again speaking to her. I never saw a more grateful dog. My god she's a sensitive thing. So easily wounded emotionally. She clung to me the rest of the night--love me, please love me, don't you love me? you do love me, don't you? Even positioning herself between Tess and me in bed, which she never does. Yikes. Don't punish that dog again, she'll have a nervous breakdown.

Today's picks

February? March? No, I forgot...it's April.

The picture with the sun looks like a shot from Ideals magazine (who remembers that one?). The other one is looking down my driveway from my deck. Silver Lake Mountain later emerged from the fog.

Doctor Knee

I had my follow-up appointment with my orthopedist this morning. I had to wait more than an hour to see him. That's unheard of for me--none of my doctor's keep me waiting that long. He spends a lot of time with each patient, however, and has a lot of patients. He will give you a very detailed answer to any question you ask. His answers to my questions were: Yes, the cartiledge in my knee is torn but not only slightly. No, there's not much that can be done about it. If I want to I can have surgery but all he would do is "trim it up a bit" and that wouldn't really fix it much. What I can do is see him when it starts to hurt more and he will give me more cortisone shots. I should continue to take an anti-inflammatory. There isn't really one that won't upset my stomach but maybe I should take a lower dose than the 600 mg. of ibuprofen I have been taking, trying a dose that will work. He will give me Celebrex if I want, but since there's been a link between that drug and heart attacks we both agree I do not want to try that. Good-bye doctor and thank you for your time.

We got about 4" of heavy, wet snow at Silver Lake yesterday. Much less than the 6-15" predicted. How can you predict 6-15"? Which will it be, 6 inches or 15 inches? I'd say that's really covering your ass, wouldn't you? Anyway, it sucks to have snow on top of mud, that's about my least favorite thing on the ground. And it's cold. It really perked up the dogs, though, they played swap the spit with each other for about 2 hours on the couch last night, after being outside for an hour. Tess finally stood in the yard and barked non-stop for 15 min. before I called her in, reassuring her that the boogey man had indeed been scared off. Who knows what she's barking at when she does that but it seems to be high sport to her.

I just got a call from my friend who's the director of the regional network. He wanted to tell me that he just got a new puppy. He described her to me: her father is a boxer and her mother is a slut. From his description of her physical attributes I said she sounds like Mr. Potato Head of the canine world. He's very proud of her but hasn't named her yet. He's only had her since Friday and is discovering what I discovered with Tess: we have completely forgotten what it's like to have a puppy. They get into everything, they pee and poop all over the place, and they chew on everything. He said he got to work today and noticed she had ripped a hole in his pants. I don't envy him the trials and tribulations of having a puppy but I do envy the joy of watching and cuddling a puppy. Jenica and I had a lot of fun watching Tess grow up.

It turns out that the land for sale near my house is only a lot, 144' x 155', out on the hardtop (half a mile from my house). Asking price is $12,000 can you believe it. I don't know who owns it. Realtor is not sure you can build a house on it but they're trying to make sure the buyer will be able to. Give me a break. My friend Fred thinks Stewarts should buy it and put a convenience store there, since he retires this summer and will be spending his summers there. I said maybe I should sell organic produce and the Sunday NY Times. Or my friend's horrible boyfriend could have a bar there. Or maybe it just won't sell because who in their right mind would pay $12,000 for a lot that size that maybe you can't even build on?

Since I finished cataloging the topographical maps I had to do for Saranac Lake (and before they send me 20 more to do) I'll move on to the next project. I just have to decide what that will be. Clip art DVD's? Toys for a grant? The toys are truly boring--a set of multi-colored, wooden building blocks. Totally unimaginative. Another toy is something I can't even figure out, some sort of bucket thing that demonstrates the principles of physics to children. And people think catalogers are boring!

You scored as Psychology. You should be a Psychology major! Psychology 100% Theater 83% English 75% Journalism 75% Linguistics 67% Sociology 67% Philosophy 67% Biology 58% Anthropology 58% Mathematics 50% Engineering 50% Art 33% Dance 17% Chemistry 0% What is your Perfect Major? (PLEASE RATE ME!!<3) created with QuizFarm.com

At least the rating for Chemistry is accurate. Dance, well that could have been lower. And yes, Molly, we can't be Psych majors. I took this test earlier in the day and scored higher as a theater major. Anyone who knows me knows about my theatrics. Could never make a living at it, but goodness knows I'm a drama queen.

Daily Picks

Chances, embarrassed by her vanity is urged to model her new blue collar.

Foresight, Lack thereof

Foresight is something I never had. I'm a "ready, fire, aim" person and always have been. I'm better than I used to be, which I think I owe to Ken. He's very deliberate and is an excellent role model. My lack of foresight impacts my life in big ways and small ways. There's a hole in my kitchen ceiling because, several years ago drops of water were coming down from the ceiling next to the refrigerator. I made a hole in the ceiling to find the source. That was really stupid: there's no plumbing there so of course there would be no leak there. The water was leaking from the shower drain and was just rolling down a floor joist to the lowest point.

Here's a small way my lack of foresight has made a difference: I bought new collars for the dogs. Chances had a purple collar; I bought her a pretty blue collar. Tess had a green collar; I bought her a purple collar. Granted, I ordered these collars online and they were on sale so my choices were limited by size and choice of color. Here's the catch: the dogs look remarkable alike, and at a glance it's often hard for me to tell them apart. The surefire way for me to distinguish them was by the color of their collars. Last night I was sitting next to a dog with a purple collar. The dog who used to have a green collar, not the dog who used to have a purple collar. I just feel that someone more clever than I would have known that it would be a stupid idea to get the other dog a purple collar, since this would lead to confusion over which dog was wearing the purple collar. Somehow I just feel that this defines my life. It's all about a purple collar.

Bad news when I got home last night. What I've long feared has happened: the land across from my house is now for sale. I have to call the realtor to see how large the lot is and how much it's listed for. I can't stand the idea of having a neighbor and have always sworn that when that lot is sold I will sell my house and move to High Banks, a place where no one would ever want to live because the growing season is about 6 weeks long. Now that the day seems near of course I reconsider. I like where I live--I like being able to walk to camp, seeing Whiteface in the winter, being near Ken and my large seasonal social circle. We're all making plans for our colony of retirees in the not-so-distant future. I can't really leave that, it's far too appealing. But a neighbor? Or more than one? I truly cringe at the thought.

When will I learn?

Who was the wise librarian who said that only a fool drives in mud? Oh, wait, that was me. Saturday morning I loaded up the car for the dump and started to turn it around near the house. I thought I was being clever, avoiding the big mud pit in the center of the driveway and driving only on the edges. WRONG IDEA. I got stuck, stuck, stucker. Ended up in mud up to the axles. Of course it started to rain hard as I was trying to get unstuck by putting pieces of carpet under the tires. That worked well on the left side but not on the right side. So I went inside and called AAA. The good guys who always used to come, who have pulled me out of the mud twice before, are no longer AAA. The new good guy was busy, so they had to send the real assholes from Keeseville (Keeseville is the equivalent of Boogerville). It took them 2 hours to arrive, they drove past my driveway and I had to flag them down as they went by it the 2nd time ("I never knew there was a house up there" duh). They got their pulley stuck and had to borrow a screwdriver, which they then pounded to a pulp with their wrench and got covered in black grease as they used it to take their pulley apart. When they finally yanked the car out, one of them said to me "I'd better drive it out" (the unspoken was "Little Miss--you're too stoopid to know how to do this without getting stuck again"). Well anyway they got it out, wrapping their cable around my maple tree, hooking the chain to the rear of the car, pulling the car sideways first, which created 4 huge, 2' deep holes in the mud. As he left he told me my car might shimmy from the mud that's stuck to the bottom. I told him it already did (from before). I'm sure they didn't think much of me, but I thought less of them. So I'm a fool and my driveway is now closed. It's the worst it's ever been, solid mud from top to bottom. But I got to the dump. The passenger window is covered in mud. I hit every puddle I could, trying to rinse the mud off of the brakes. Did pretty well, too.

Yesterday was a better day, sunny and 50. I got up at 6:30--Daylight Savings does strange things, doesn't it.

Signs of spring:
*Daffodils are coming up, now 1.5 inches high
*Juncos have arrived at the bird feeder
*I heard woodcocks the other night (the males fly straight up, about 50', making an amazing chirping sound with their wings, then dive straight down to the ground--this is what they think is sexy to the females)
*The dogs took their first trip up the bluffs with total strangers
*I read in the sun, sitting in my chair in my yard yesterday afternoon without wearing a jacket
*I only have small fires at night and let them go out before bedtime
*My favorite maple tree has buds on it
*My pussy willow tree has pussy willows

I'll ignore the part about being stuck in the mud.

Snail Indy 500
I have the fastest snail on the planet. Yes, I know we thought he was dead, but on Friday he was in one corner of the tank, then 15 minutes later he had crossed the equivalent of the Oregon Trail and was in the opposite corner of the tank. All weekend he went round and round the tank and up and down the sides. What a slithering (disgusting) speed freak. He's not a very good window cleaner, though, because there are 2 algae spots at the back of the tank he keeps missing. How can I point these out to him?

Pick of the Day

This is Molly. I've driven past her 5 days a week all her life. She's about 3 or 4 now and is very lonely, ever since they sold her mother. Her mother was a draft horse, her father a giant mule (is there really such a thing?). She was really interested in me when I took this picture because it was 5 p.m., her dinner time, and she thought I was going to feed her. Sorry, Molly, I just wanted to take your picture. I wish they'd get her a pony or a goat or something to keep her company, she's really very lonely.