Silence is amazing
I slept in the boat house last night--because I could. I got home just after 8, bundled up the dogs, grabbed the basket I keep filled with my boat house things, and swished down there. Unfortunately someone at the foot of the lake was mowing a lawn with a big loud machine (I think I know who it was, and if it was him he's an extremely nice man so I tried to think kind thoughts, but it took him forever) so there was no silence until it was almost dark. The lake was still and it was beautiful. A few cotton-puffy clouds with pink bottoms. I lit some candles and read, stared into space a lot and calmed down from what had turned out to be a terrible and nerve-inducing day. Ahhhhhh.
While lying in bed I heard a huge splash--presumably a large fish jumping right near our dock. Wowie! Don't tell anyone or there will be fisherpeople all over the place the way there were last year after someone caught a big bass just off the boat house. Anyway, peaceful and glorious sleep, laughing all night as Tess decided to sleep on top of the covers, then under the covers, then on top, then under--at least 5 times. She makes me laugh, that dog.
I ordered new collars and new name tags for the dogs--choosing colors for both is most difficult. Everything arrived so last night I played with their bling and dressed them up. Now they look pretty and proper and ready for their trip to RI. I got the kind of tag that has their vacation information on the back, RI address and phone number. Comes in handy when Chances decides she can't bear to enter the home of my mother's snarling dog who always attacks her and runs away.
When I got up this morning it was raining ever so gently so I took a quick dip in the lake (like, where else would I dip?). Cold, although rumor has it the water temp is 70. When I got out I was cold, very cold. Had time to make tea and drink it on the porch and read. It was silent, then it started to rain harder and there was that almost-silent ping!ping!ping! of the drops hitting the water. It's a very gentle sound, just barely loud enough to tell you what's going on outside. It was finally time for me to head home, and when I got out of the car there was the deafening sound of raindrops hitting leaves all around. The difference was incredible. It was soooo loud! I'd never noticed it before but the forest is amazingly loud when it rains, even a little. That's my revelation for the day.
It's been a traumatic time in the neighborhood. Last week Ken fell. He doesn't remember falling, which has everyone very concerned. Apparently he used his hands to break his fall because they were so swollen he couldn't use them. They were grotesque and horrifying to see. We all begged him to go to the emergency room but he said no, they would admit him to the hospital and he wouldn't have that. This was last Thursday. I've been there every day, helping him with various things, as have many others. Fred finally convinced him to see the doctor on Monday, when the swelling had gone down quite a bit. Doctor was concerned about his not remembering the fall but said his hands were OK. Ken could barely walk, needed help to get in the car, walk to doctor's office, etc., which Fred found very upsetting. This fall has really taken its toll on Ken and has many, many people very upset. I told Ken he should see it as a warning and he needs to curtail his physical activities (like--driving his 1954 HUGE tractor, riding his lawn mower for hours on end, stacking 4 cords of wood in 2 days). Last night he seemed much better, hands nearly normal and able to walk pretty well, if very slowly. He says "If I get over this" so is very realistic about it. I think he'll recover physically, and will slow down. He's always been terrified of falling, afraid he'll break his hip. He hit his head really hard this time and my friend Annie (who's a doctor, whom I called Sat. morning, hysterical, to get a diagnosis over the phone) thinks perhaps he had a slight concussion. Not a stroke--she said people who fall down from a stroke don't get back up again.
So his neighbor and niece Pat has been really good, going there every morning and again in the afternoon. Good friends who are renting Bill's camp take him dinner every night. I stop by, do his grocery shopping and tonight will buy him new socks. Many people stop by and are taking care of him. He has worried a lot about who will take care of him if something happens, so I think this is a great experience for him in that regard.
Today I'll spend the day with the correctional facility librarians. Enough to drive anyone over the edge. My role in this meeting is to give them information on their interlibrary loan activities, our lost book policy, the online ILL system we use (which they can't use because they'll never have Internet access), and blahblahblah. Be charming to them so they'll keep giving us the $40,000 we need from the funds they get from the state for library service. kissasskissasskissass. AND: the new Harry Potter book is here but we can't circulate it for a week. So why send it to libraries? This I don't really understand. Anyway I read the end and I know who dies. Stick a flaming poker up my butt and I still won't tell you.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
road dog
Magical mystery tour. This is Old Hawkeye Road. The right turn is my driveway. The road goes down a hill at the end of this view. I know, I've posted this picture many,many times.
driveway one
This is the beginning of my driveway. I like it that it looks like a dirt road that goes nowhere, except that people are often curious and drive in on it to see what's there. Sometimes I come home and see tracks of strange cars that go right to the crest of the hill, the first place you can see my house.
driveway down
This should really be the last shot--this is how you leave. The driveway is a circle. It looks as if you drive into the deep forest here. I guess you do.
driveway up
This isn't even a hill, it's barely an incline, but it causes me great distress in the winter because you have to come at it at an angle.
wood
A thing of beauty. Bill's Boys from the 'hood stacked this--it's 4 cords and it only took them an hour because there were 4 of them. I still feel like a goof for paying someone to stack my wood. The epitome of laziness.
house
And this is what you see. What looks like a gaping hole on the second floor is actually a window. It's a floor-to-ceiling window but the building inspector made us block off the bottom. Our plan was to have a small deck there eventually. So much for plans. I think the house looks sort of goofy from some angles, but nice from others. This is a goofy angle. We never planned where we would put most of the windows, we bought them on sale then stuck them in wherever we thought we might want them. Note to potential homebuilders: don't do it that way.
railing pots
Brave little soldiers all in a row. I just put everything in pots this year. Usually I put snapdragons and cosmos in the ground and the cosmos are spectacular--4 feet tall and beautiful. This year I only bought the small kind that get about 2' tall and put them in pots. If I'd decided to put them in the ground I would have had to prepare the the garden and that would have been actual work. The garden is full of grass.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Got the day right at least
All week long my staff and I have been united in the "Who stopped the clocks?" routine. "Can it really only be 1:00?" "How can this day take so long to get through?" Each work day has been endless. Ah, but today is Friday. Payday too. I went to the drug store earlier to drop off prescriptions and bought what I thought was sugar free candy. WRONG-O. It had sugar but I craved it and ate a bunch anyway. Since I hardly ever eat sugar I had an extreme reaction and crashed so hard my forehead practically hit my desk. It would have been funny had I not wanted to remain upright, for show at least. Anyway now I'm caffeinated and better. But still not hustling. Have a few 1970-era travel videos to catalog for Tupper Lake. give me a break.
My nights at the boat house were really great this week. I came home Weds., though because it got cold. Lower 50's is too cold for me--wuss that I am. Besides, I like sleeping at home when I can have the window open and listen to the sounds of the woods. Even if all I can hear is rain these days. Anyway it's supposed to warm up so hopefully I'll get back down there. I love weekend mornings in the b.house--coffee, porch, water, reflections, restful dogs, no worries. And no relatives right now. Must take advantage of the cousin-free time while I have it. Only one more weekend, then I go to RI to see MY SISTER and MY NIECE and of course my mother and Mark. We have such a nice time together.
I need to tend to my plants this weekend--the flowers are so wet they're just sticking together and rotting. This happened last year too, we had a long wet spell. As I keep saying (ad nauseum) I'd rather have too much rain than a drought. I'm afraid of drought--forest fires, dry well, dead garden. This is a drag--I can't cut my grass or sit on my deck, but at least my house isn't burning down as the woods around it burn, and when I turn the faucet on water comes out.
Linda has been here all week and I've been having nice visits with her. Last night she built a camp fire and we sat together, talking and staring at the flames. I stayed for dinner and for dessert we had the best pie ever. She had no pecans so she made a walnut pie. I don't like pecans so this was fine by me. And MANOHMAN was it ever good! Must remember this plan.
Almost 2:00 now, perhaps I'll try to get something done. I've been running reports for member libraries all week, am almost to the W's--we have a lot of W libraries (Westport, Wadhams, Wilmington, Willsboro--maybe another one or so). I also need to get started on the infamous circulation policy. Last night I dreamed that my boss from 2 bosses ago walked past me and said "Get going on that circulation policy." Part of my dream was in Spanish, too, because Julie has been listening to a Pimleur Spanish book and said a few words in Spanish to me yesterday. Tres funny. We got a $12,000 grant to subscribe to a downloadable audiobooks service--you can download the books to an MP3 player. Not, of course an iPod, no, never an Apple product. Anyway, I'm planning to get an MP3 player and cable so I can dump books to listen to in my car because there are some good titles in this subscription. Hopefully member libraries will pool money to continue this after the grant runs out next year. We're also buying something called Playaways, which are tiny little things you listen to, contain a book each, and are disposable. I'm doing the selection of those titles and they should start coming in soon. I'm being really good as a selector of audio materials--Julie has turned selection over to me and I'm not buying just the stuff I want to listen to. GOOD GIRL. I get a lot of stuff I'm not at all interested in but know bookmobile patrons will truly want, yuck. Naturally each month I have to get a title or two I know people like me will want, too. Something to look forward to. I listen to books for an hour and a half every day, during my commute. I've had some great experiences and some that have been just awful. I listened to The shipping news, which was impossible for me to read, but was one of the best books I've ever heard/read. Same with Girl with a pearl earring. Now I'm listening to Richard Ford's latest, which isn't as good as I thought it would be, but what the hell. I like listening to Richard Russo too, like Empire Falls--that was great. Since I mostly read fiction written by women, listening to books is a good way for me to be exposed to books written by men. My, I am a strange creature, aren't I.
All week long my staff and I have been united in the "Who stopped the clocks?" routine. "Can it really only be 1:00?" "How can this day take so long to get through?" Each work day has been endless. Ah, but today is Friday. Payday too. I went to the drug store earlier to drop off prescriptions and bought what I thought was sugar free candy. WRONG-O. It had sugar but I craved it and ate a bunch anyway. Since I hardly ever eat sugar I had an extreme reaction and crashed so hard my forehead practically hit my desk. It would have been funny had I not wanted to remain upright, for show at least. Anyway now I'm caffeinated and better. But still not hustling. Have a few 1970-era travel videos to catalog for Tupper Lake. give me a break.
My nights at the boat house were really great this week. I came home Weds., though because it got cold. Lower 50's is too cold for me--wuss that I am. Besides, I like sleeping at home when I can have the window open and listen to the sounds of the woods. Even if all I can hear is rain these days. Anyway it's supposed to warm up so hopefully I'll get back down there. I love weekend mornings in the b.house--coffee, porch, water, reflections, restful dogs, no worries. And no relatives right now. Must take advantage of the cousin-free time while I have it. Only one more weekend, then I go to RI to see MY SISTER and MY NIECE and of course my mother and Mark. We have such a nice time together.
I need to tend to my plants this weekend--the flowers are so wet they're just sticking together and rotting. This happened last year too, we had a long wet spell. As I keep saying (ad nauseum) I'd rather have too much rain than a drought. I'm afraid of drought--forest fires, dry well, dead garden. This is a drag--I can't cut my grass or sit on my deck, but at least my house isn't burning down as the woods around it burn, and when I turn the faucet on water comes out.
Linda has been here all week and I've been having nice visits with her. Last night she built a camp fire and we sat together, talking and staring at the flames. I stayed for dinner and for dessert we had the best pie ever. She had no pecans so she made a walnut pie. I don't like pecans so this was fine by me. And MANOHMAN was it ever good! Must remember this plan.
Almost 2:00 now, perhaps I'll try to get something done. I've been running reports for member libraries all week, am almost to the W's--we have a lot of W libraries (Westport, Wadhams, Wilmington, Willsboro--maybe another one or so). I also need to get started on the infamous circulation policy. Last night I dreamed that my boss from 2 bosses ago walked past me and said "Get going on that circulation policy." Part of my dream was in Spanish, too, because Julie has been listening to a Pimleur Spanish book and said a few words in Spanish to me yesterday. Tres funny. We got a $12,000 grant to subscribe to a downloadable audiobooks service--you can download the books to an MP3 player. Not, of course an iPod, no, never an Apple product. Anyway, I'm planning to get an MP3 player and cable so I can dump books to listen to in my car because there are some good titles in this subscription. Hopefully member libraries will pool money to continue this after the grant runs out next year. We're also buying something called Playaways, which are tiny little things you listen to, contain a book each, and are disposable. I'm doing the selection of those titles and they should start coming in soon. I'm being really good as a selector of audio materials--Julie has turned selection over to me and I'm not buying just the stuff I want to listen to. GOOD GIRL. I get a lot of stuff I'm not at all interested in but know bookmobile patrons will truly want, yuck. Naturally each month I have to get a title or two I know people like me will want, too. Something to look forward to. I listen to books for an hour and a half every day, during my commute. I've had some great experiences and some that have been just awful. I listened to The shipping news, which was impossible for me to read, but was one of the best books I've ever heard/read. Same with Girl with a pearl earring. Now I'm listening to Richard Ford's latest, which isn't as good as I thought it would be, but what the hell. I like listening to Richard Russo too, like Empire Falls--that was great. Since I mostly read fiction written by women, listening to books is a good way for me to be exposed to books written by men. My, I am a strange creature, aren't I.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Pickers at the ready
From left, the brothers (Bill's Boys, the Boyz in the 'hood) Shane, Israel and August, Bill and Fred.
Bill brings the boys to Hawkeye almost every weekend to do lots of different work. They've stacked my firewood for the past 2 years. Amazing that it's been that long since I've touched a woodpile other than to grab wood to burn. The three of them stacked my latest 4 cords in an hour.
Anyway, here they're getting ready to pick up roadside trash as part of the good work the Hawkeye Conservationists do for the community. Linda's president this year and I'm the perennial secretary. I'm pretty sick of this organization--it's basically the shoreowner's organization but sometimes it's very controversial because of our position on various issues (like almost always against whatever project the neighborhood bully proposes).
Bill brings the boys to Hawkeye almost every weekend to do lots of different work. They've stacked my firewood for the past 2 years. Amazing that it's been that long since I've touched a woodpile other than to grab wood to burn. The three of them stacked my latest 4 cords in an hour.
Anyway, here they're getting ready to pick up roadside trash as part of the good work the Hawkeye Conservationists do for the community. Linda's president this year and I'm the perennial secretary. I'm pretty sick of this organization--it's basically the shoreowner's organization but sometimes it's very controversial because of our position on various issues (like almost always against whatever project the neighborhood bully proposes).
August says no
This is the oldest brother, August. Their mother had a specific reason for each name of her children, but the only one I can remember is Shane. Yup, she was watching the movie Shane while she was pregnant. Israel is tougher, I can't remember that story. Maybe she was reading Guns of August when August was born, although she doesn't strike me as the type who would read that book.
Hemlock
I love hemlock trees--they droop over the water in such a graceful way. These are between the boat house and camp's dock.
Good morning Chances
Here she is, in all her glory, ready to face the day. She always looks angry but really she's not. She's just trying to avoid the dead fish with no eyes that Tess put on the dock that she has to walk past to get to shore.
Evening show
Ah, yes, the region's most photographed mountain. This was what it looked like last night. At least I think it was last night, it could have been this morning. The views all sort of meld together after a while.
I had the most wonderful time on the boat house porch last night. There was distant lightning with muffled thunder, so pretty that I finally put out all the candles and watched it in darkness. Some flashes were clearly defined bolts of lightning and some were like flashbulbs in the sky. It was just so amazing.
I had the most wonderful time on the boat house porch last night. There was distant lightning with muffled thunder, so pretty that I finally put out all the candles and watched it in darkness. Some flashes were clearly defined bolts of lightning and some were like flashbulbs in the sky. It was just so amazing.
Douglas in a fog
I'm not sure this looks as pretty as it actually was. This is looking across the lake from the boat house dock. Unfortunately the name of that mountain (which barely qualifies as a mountain) is Douglas, also the last name of the neighborhood bully.
Sun on water
Here's an art shot--the morning sun reflected on the water. It was calm but not dead calm so there was a little texture added to the view.
Friday, July 06, 2007
Not so much
Both my mother and my sister commented on my writing of this blog. "Take out the personal stuff and it's really interesting and well-written and worthy of a book." Well, there's been almost exclusively personal stuff lately. Because that's all that's been going on in my life. I haven't been conscientiously enjoying what's around me outside. There's not much in the way of change, this is the time of year when everything that was trying so hard to grow and get established is now either flourishing or dead or covered up by more successful stuff.
The deer are pretty active--the other night Fred was bemoaning the fact that he hasn't seen many deer this year. Last year there were 2 does he would see often on his road during his comings and goings. He called them "his girls" and would greet them with "Hello girls" whenever he saw them. Fred is not much of a nature observer so this was a real treat for him. This year he misses his girls. Anyway, just after he said this a small buck in velvet appeared next to the road. I never see bucks so this was cool. His small rack was covered in fuzzy velvet and he looked, as my father always said "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed." Very nice. Since then I've seen many, many deer and have reported this cheerfully to Fred.
Linda always puts up bird feeders while she's in camp, and has beautifully bright yellow goldfinches. As I say, Fred is no naturalist, but he told me he wanted yellow birds like Linda's, so I bought him a finch feeder and some Nyjer seed, which is only thing you put in a finch feeder. He was really pleased but left the plastic bag of Nyjer seed on his deck overnight. He and his neighbors are having trouble with raccoons, and a 'coon dragged the bag into his driveway and started eating the seed during the night. Much to his dismay. He did enjoy watching the chipmunks clean up the remainder of the seeds in the dirt, though. Anyway, he filled his feeder and within half an hour he had bright yellow goldfinches. What a nice thing. I was really happy for him. Now that Linda's here and feeding the birds (or trying to), she has no one at her feeder. I told her they're all at Fred's, quite a way up the lake. She is not pleased. Aha! The Great Goldfinch Competition is on.
I slept in the boat house last night, went down after 9. Just getting dark. In the barely-lightness I could see a figure on the water, rowing quickly and silently up the lake. Way cool. The dogs love going to the boat house, they think it's a wonderful place and settle in immediately. Poke around minimally and plop right down on the porch. I read by candlelight--I've mentioned before that this is one of my all-time favorite activities, sitting on the porch there in silent semi-darkness. I was reading Rolling Stone's 40th anniversary issue. They're publishing a series of issues celebrating their anniversary, made up of articles first published in 1967. This issue is news stories about what was going on. It is indescribably cool for me to relive that part of music history. I'm savoring it. A young Dylan, young Jagger, the Dead in their infancy, Otis Redding's plane crash, the original Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin when she was with Big Brother & The Holding Company (my brother gave me their best album for my birthday one of those years and I loved it--both the music and the fact that he thought enough of my musical taste that I would "get it").
The dogs barked furiously during the night. I know some people find this scary but I think it's funny. They were pretending the Boogie Man was standing on the deck, just the other side of the screen door. My reaction is to spring out of bed, hoping I'd see something really cool on the lake or in the trees. No, nothing. "Oh shut up. There's not even a loon out there." It was beautiful, though--4:30, bright moon, sparkling water.
I saw two turkeys in the road at the end of my driveway on my way home at 6:45 this morning. Tess likes to stand behind me in the driver's seat, front paws on the top of the door with the top of her body out the window so she can see everything just before I do. I wasn't sure she saw the turkeys--she's very observant; I asked her if she saw them. As soon as we got home and she was out of the car she took off like a shot down the driveway after them (they were long gone into the woods, of course). She came right back, breathless but cheerful.
The other day I found a really big milk snake under a tarp. I folded up the tarps I had used to cover my January firewood pile, knowing that when I picked them up there would be at least one snake enjoying the warmth under them. Usually it's garter snakes, but this was a pleasant surprise (as pleasant as finding a snake can be). It was about an inch and a half in diameter and was at least 2 feet long. The myth about milk snakes is that they attach their mouths to a cow's udder and drink the milk. Yeah, right. They're pretty snakes, sort of a purple-brown with grayish stripes. Once I saw a very young, small one curled up in a very pretty way, in the bog almost at eye level. It's colors were incredibly bright and purple and you could see the black lines defining the stripes completely clearly. Very pretty (as pretty as a snake can be). While I'm not terribly fond of snakes and won't pick one up, I don't usually mind them. Tess stumbled across this one and jumped right into the air. That was a relief, I was afraid she'd feel compelled to grab it. She's not really a very brave dog. I came across a garter snake even bigger than that milk snake, almost stepped on it sunning on a stone in my path. We weren't allowed to scream like girls when we were children, so pretty much all I know how to do is yell. And boy did I yell--twice. Then I laughed. That startled the snake and it disappeared into the brambles quickly enough to suit me.
This morning was hazy with low-level fog. The mountain was nearly invisible, just the base was showing. Wish I'd had my camera, the effect was stunning. The other day at Linda's we saw the most amazing rainbow I've ever seen. You could see the entire rainbow, from end to end, and you could see each band completely defined. One end was at Taylor Pond (next lake over) and the other was at the foot of Silver Lake. It was just incredible and I wish I could have a huge picture of it to show everyone I know how beautiful a rainbow can be.
I guess there really is a lot going on after all, I just need to remind myself that I really do notice more than the people around me.
Both my mother and my sister commented on my writing of this blog. "Take out the personal stuff and it's really interesting and well-written and worthy of a book." Well, there's been almost exclusively personal stuff lately. Because that's all that's been going on in my life. I haven't been conscientiously enjoying what's around me outside. There's not much in the way of change, this is the time of year when everything that was trying so hard to grow and get established is now either flourishing or dead or covered up by more successful stuff.
The deer are pretty active--the other night Fred was bemoaning the fact that he hasn't seen many deer this year. Last year there were 2 does he would see often on his road during his comings and goings. He called them "his girls" and would greet them with "Hello girls" whenever he saw them. Fred is not much of a nature observer so this was a real treat for him. This year he misses his girls. Anyway, just after he said this a small buck in velvet appeared next to the road. I never see bucks so this was cool. His small rack was covered in fuzzy velvet and he looked, as my father always said "bright-eyed and bushy-tailed." Very nice. Since then I've seen many, many deer and have reported this cheerfully to Fred.
Linda always puts up bird feeders while she's in camp, and has beautifully bright yellow goldfinches. As I say, Fred is no naturalist, but he told me he wanted yellow birds like Linda's, so I bought him a finch feeder and some Nyjer seed, which is only thing you put in a finch feeder. He was really pleased but left the plastic bag of Nyjer seed on his deck overnight. He and his neighbors are having trouble with raccoons, and a 'coon dragged the bag into his driveway and started eating the seed during the night. Much to his dismay. He did enjoy watching the chipmunks clean up the remainder of the seeds in the dirt, though. Anyway, he filled his feeder and within half an hour he had bright yellow goldfinches. What a nice thing. I was really happy for him. Now that Linda's here and feeding the birds (or trying to), she has no one at her feeder. I told her they're all at Fred's, quite a way up the lake. She is not pleased. Aha! The Great Goldfinch Competition is on.
I slept in the boat house last night, went down after 9. Just getting dark. In the barely-lightness I could see a figure on the water, rowing quickly and silently up the lake. Way cool. The dogs love going to the boat house, they think it's a wonderful place and settle in immediately. Poke around minimally and plop right down on the porch. I read by candlelight--I've mentioned before that this is one of my all-time favorite activities, sitting on the porch there in silent semi-darkness. I was reading Rolling Stone's 40th anniversary issue. They're publishing a series of issues celebrating their anniversary, made up of articles first published in 1967. This issue is news stories about what was going on. It is indescribably cool for me to relive that part of music history. I'm savoring it. A young Dylan, young Jagger, the Dead in their infancy, Otis Redding's plane crash, the original Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin when she was with Big Brother & The Holding Company (my brother gave me their best album for my birthday one of those years and I loved it--both the music and the fact that he thought enough of my musical taste that I would "get it").
The dogs barked furiously during the night. I know some people find this scary but I think it's funny. They were pretending the Boogie Man was standing on the deck, just the other side of the screen door. My reaction is to spring out of bed, hoping I'd see something really cool on the lake or in the trees. No, nothing. "Oh shut up. There's not even a loon out there." It was beautiful, though--4:30, bright moon, sparkling water.
I saw two turkeys in the road at the end of my driveway on my way home at 6:45 this morning. Tess likes to stand behind me in the driver's seat, front paws on the top of the door with the top of her body out the window so she can see everything just before I do. I wasn't sure she saw the turkeys--she's very observant; I asked her if she saw them. As soon as we got home and she was out of the car she took off like a shot down the driveway after them (they were long gone into the woods, of course). She came right back, breathless but cheerful.
The other day I found a really big milk snake under a tarp. I folded up the tarps I had used to cover my January firewood pile, knowing that when I picked them up there would be at least one snake enjoying the warmth under them. Usually it's garter snakes, but this was a pleasant surprise (as pleasant as finding a snake can be). It was about an inch and a half in diameter and was at least 2 feet long. The myth about milk snakes is that they attach their mouths to a cow's udder and drink the milk. Yeah, right. They're pretty snakes, sort of a purple-brown with grayish stripes. Once I saw a very young, small one curled up in a very pretty way, in the bog almost at eye level. It's colors were incredibly bright and purple and you could see the black lines defining the stripes completely clearly. Very pretty (as pretty as a snake can be). While I'm not terribly fond of snakes and won't pick one up, I don't usually mind them. Tess stumbled across this one and jumped right into the air. That was a relief, I was afraid she'd feel compelled to grab it. She's not really a very brave dog. I came across a garter snake even bigger than that milk snake, almost stepped on it sunning on a stone in my path. We weren't allowed to scream like girls when we were children, so pretty much all I know how to do is yell. And boy did I yell--twice. Then I laughed. That startled the snake and it disappeared into the brambles quickly enough to suit me.
This morning was hazy with low-level fog. The mountain was nearly invisible, just the base was showing. Wish I'd had my camera, the effect was stunning. The other day at Linda's we saw the most amazing rainbow I've ever seen. You could see the entire rainbow, from end to end, and you could see each band completely defined. One end was at Taylor Pond (next lake over) and the other was at the foot of Silver Lake. It was just incredible and I wish I could have a huge picture of it to show everyone I know how beautiful a rainbow can be.
I guess there really is a lot going on after all, I just need to remind myself that I really do notice more than the people around me.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
In full swing
We're all independent and have pursued happiness now. Linda's annual bash was last night and we had a great time. I had the day off, of course--this is a patriotic nation, especially when it comes to holidays. I got up at 7:30 (late) and was walking to the front door sans pants to let the dogs out and noticed Lee, the firewood delivery man and the man who plows for the town, scoping out just where he thought I wanted my 4 cords dumped. OOPS! I turned right around and panted up, then went out to have my usual chat with him. He's very nice and takes great care of me all winter, making sure my road is plowed in time for me to get to work and to get home at night. Anyway, we figured out where to dump the wood and he, being an artist with the dump truck hit it right on the mark. $240 for 4 cords, a bit of a discount because I'm a long time customer. Of course, the first year I bought it I paid $40 a cord, but in January I paid $60 a cord. What the hell, it's only money. Now I truly have none. Negative balance. Plus I have a lot of wood to stack. He carefully put it next to the spot I told him I was going to stack it, then told me a few times that I wouldn't have far to take it when I stacked it. He has a point.
Although I slept a lot during the day, I finally cleaned my living room. Now it looks like a place where someone who cares about their living quarters lives. I really like it that way, I just don't like doing what it takes to get it there. Next task involves outdoor chores.
I realize I've been talking a lot lately about what people think of me, as if I think about it all the time. I am obsessive-compulsive, so I do grab onto things and can't let go. One of the reasons I'm so focused on this, however, is that there is such a stigma attached to mental illness, and I'm really embarrassed by mine. I haven't reached the point--and may never--where I can comfortably talk about it with people. Only a select few know, and sometimes I think it's strange who I've chosen, then I realize that these are the people I trust most among all of the people I know. Trust not to judge me, trust to be kind to me, and trust (hopefully) to treat me well and to forget about it when they're with me or when they think of me. I'm having a difficult time with all of this right now, maybe because I don't feel great, I miss my brother, it's the time of year when I go through this (I have sort of a reverse Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder and respond poorly to spring/early summer), or who knows what. I'm starting to feel good, though, and I certainly have a lot to enjoy and feel wonderful about. I realized today that in a short time I'll be spending 2 weeks with my sister and her daughter. Hot damn! It's soooo nice to be with them. I love being with my sister.
Last night I dreamed about my sister. We were in a car and she was driving. Winter road--we started to spin out of control and she didn't know how to control the car so I instructed her--turn the steering wheel this way, pump the breaks. She did a magnificent job of controlling the situation. Cars were swishing all around us, then cows started zipping by, as if we were in a tornado (a danger we always faced as children). Next stretch of road was heavy wet snow and I told Molly to slow down. She slowed down too much & we got stuck. Again I told her what to do: accelerate forward, shift quickly into reverse, rock the car. She solved the problem. I loved this dream--Molly working out our problems, my knowing about the situation. Isn't she great? Big sisters can do just about anything, huh. I especially liked the part about the cows sliding all over the road. Poor cows. Molly dodged all the trucks and cars like a real pro.
Must move along now and discard lots of books for member libraries' book sales. Strike while there's a hot iron so we don't have to pay to take them to the dump. There's mostly pretty good fiction left, since I weeded 5 years ago & threw out the old, old stuff.
Oh yeah, throw in a little ILL too. And the director wants me to write a circulation policy, which will be like navigating a barge down the tiniest stream--next to impossible. I just love spending hours writing something so that other people can comment on all the things that are wrong with it. Well, actually I don't really mind and I try not to get emotionally invested in stuff like that. Mostly I succeed.
We're all independent and have pursued happiness now. Linda's annual bash was last night and we had a great time. I had the day off, of course--this is a patriotic nation, especially when it comes to holidays. I got up at 7:30 (late) and was walking to the front door sans pants to let the dogs out and noticed Lee, the firewood delivery man and the man who plows for the town, scoping out just where he thought I wanted my 4 cords dumped. OOPS! I turned right around and panted up, then went out to have my usual chat with him. He's very nice and takes great care of me all winter, making sure my road is plowed in time for me to get to work and to get home at night. Anyway, we figured out where to dump the wood and he, being an artist with the dump truck hit it right on the mark. $240 for 4 cords, a bit of a discount because I'm a long time customer. Of course, the first year I bought it I paid $40 a cord, but in January I paid $60 a cord. What the hell, it's only money. Now I truly have none. Negative balance. Plus I have a lot of wood to stack. He carefully put it next to the spot I told him I was going to stack it, then told me a few times that I wouldn't have far to take it when I stacked it. He has a point.
Although I slept a lot during the day, I finally cleaned my living room. Now it looks like a place where someone who cares about their living quarters lives. I really like it that way, I just don't like doing what it takes to get it there. Next task involves outdoor chores.
I realize I've been talking a lot lately about what people think of me, as if I think about it all the time. I am obsessive-compulsive, so I do grab onto things and can't let go. One of the reasons I'm so focused on this, however, is that there is such a stigma attached to mental illness, and I'm really embarrassed by mine. I haven't reached the point--and may never--where I can comfortably talk about it with people. Only a select few know, and sometimes I think it's strange who I've chosen, then I realize that these are the people I trust most among all of the people I know. Trust not to judge me, trust to be kind to me, and trust (hopefully) to treat me well and to forget about it when they're with me or when they think of me. I'm having a difficult time with all of this right now, maybe because I don't feel great, I miss my brother, it's the time of year when I go through this (I have sort of a reverse Seasonal Affectiveness Disorder and respond poorly to spring/early summer), or who knows what. I'm starting to feel good, though, and I certainly have a lot to enjoy and feel wonderful about. I realized today that in a short time I'll be spending 2 weeks with my sister and her daughter. Hot damn! It's soooo nice to be with them. I love being with my sister.
Last night I dreamed about my sister. We were in a car and she was driving. Winter road--we started to spin out of control and she didn't know how to control the car so I instructed her--turn the steering wheel this way, pump the breaks. She did a magnificent job of controlling the situation. Cars were swishing all around us, then cows started zipping by, as if we were in a tornado (a danger we always faced as children). Next stretch of road was heavy wet snow and I told Molly to slow down. She slowed down too much & we got stuck. Again I told her what to do: accelerate forward, shift quickly into reverse, rock the car. She solved the problem. I loved this dream--Molly working out our problems, my knowing about the situation. Isn't she great? Big sisters can do just about anything, huh. I especially liked the part about the cows sliding all over the road. Poor cows. Molly dodged all the trucks and cars like a real pro.
Must move along now and discard lots of books for member libraries' book sales. Strike while there's a hot iron so we don't have to pay to take them to the dump. There's mostly pretty good fiction left, since I weeded 5 years ago & threw out the old, old stuff.
Oh yeah, throw in a little ILL too. And the director wants me to write a circulation policy, which will be like navigating a barge down the tiniest stream--next to impossible. I just love spending hours writing something so that other people can comment on all the things that are wrong with it. Well, actually I don't really mind and I try not to get emotionally invested in stuff like that. Mostly I succeed.
Enjoying the company
This is Bill's friend Kathleen, who's head of the health clinic at the college, and Ken. I stopped by Ken's before Linda's party yesterday and we agreed it's very confusing having all of these people around. I sat with him for a while, but when Kathlee arrived she sat right down next to him and "took care" of him the entire evening. She was charming and very sweet to him, an attentive audience, which was just what he needed. He's doing pretty well but does seem much older than last year at this time. He can't wait for his firewood to be delivered so he'll have something to do when he stacks it.
The cook
Linda will be really angry when she sees that I've posted this. She's grilling last night's dinner. She had one of her noteworthy gatherings last night to celebrate the 4th of July. What started out as dinner for 6 ended up being dinner for 13 or so. Lots of delicious steak, some cooked on the campfire and some cooked on the grill. It was raining but the intrepid cooks grilled away. Linda said she looked like a homeless person in this shot, but I maintain that the homeless sure don't have steaks like this.
Nice people
Chris, Linda and Holly. Chris proposed to Holly on Linda's dock and they got married at Linda's. They come every year for a week and are lots of fun to be with. Holly works at the EPA with Linda in Ann Arbor and Chris is a programmer. Chris is a red-hot fisherman and spends lots of time in Linda's rowboat. This year he's catching lots of HUGE perch--much bigger than any I've ever seen in the lake. I'm not sure what that means about the lake but I don't really think it's a good sign. I think it means there are not as many predator fish in the lake as their used to be--like Northern pike, which we used to catch. My father was a great fisherman. I think he liked the peace of trolling up and down the shoreline with his dog in the boat, and he really liked it when he caught a pike. It was so nice to see him fishing.
Lilly
Pug alert. These are the 3 pugs I visit with at Linda's. They like me a lot and come running up to me when I arrive (of course, I yell "PUGPUGPUG!," which gets their attention). This is Lilly. Although I certainly wouldn't pick a pug as my favorite breed of dog, these are very nice dogs.
Amber
This is Amber, the mother of the other 2. She's very sweet, sits on your foot when you're sitting in a chair or on the couch. She's getting old, though.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Not so bad after all
I think I've been sounding pretty dismal lately, and have been feeling sort of dismal too. Today I got up too early (went to sleep too late too) and walked with the dogs. This is a positive sign. I met my neighbors at 5:30 on the road--turns out they start their walks at 5. Good grief! They have the cute little dog named Angel and she and Tess love to tear around and get good exercise while Ginger, Jim and I visit. I guess it cheered me up to see someone I always see, must have calmed me a bit. I feel much more peaceful--I'm sure the walk helped, too.
I had a nice time at Linda's last night, although I did feel like an interloper and freeloader, since I sort of hung around until I was invited for dinner. My only contribution to evenings like that is a copy of the NY Times. And of course my stimulating conversation and wit. Which was sort of lacking last night. But at least I didn't drink much, and only drank wine.
I stopped to see Ken and was drinking only soda but he insisted I'd feel better if I had "a touch of the creature." He was really insistent so I felt obligated to have a small drink--peer pressure at it's worst (if you can call a 93-year old man a peer). He feels very tired and slightly confused by all this company and all these people coming around. I think he liked it best when Duncan and David were the only ones who stopped by and he could keep them straight, and he liked talking with them quietly and alone. Then all hell broke loose.
I find myself worrying too much about what people think of me. An old habit, left over from Rockford. I don't know if Rockford's social pressure is worse than some places or I was just so terribly different from everyone and wanted to fit in, always having been the one who wasn't like everyone else. Moving every year made me the one who had no ties, and my siblings were my only friends, really. Anyway I thought it would be so cool to run into a relative in the grocery store, or to visit with relatives in the same town where you lived. It just seemed odd to live in the same town as your aunts & uncles & cousins. I craved that sort of connection. But what the hell, you can't undo the past and Rockford was where we lived even if my father made fun of everything about it. It was my life and I figured out how to make friends and have a life there. Not a bad one. So wait...what was I talking about? Oh, what people think of me. I've revealed things about myself to people (someone in particular) that I've not shared before and I feel vulnerable because of that. I fear rejection (don't we all) and I feel that people (someone in particular) won't think as much of me because I'm a broken, flawed person. Then I think: well, I passed out my blog to people, and blogs are public, so what did I expect, and if I don't want to share these things, why do I record them? Must be some reason I'm sharing them. My not-very-good therapist in Boston many years ago pointed out to me that life is very complicated when your intelligent. I've wanted to be stupid ever since then (joke). I've known plenty of not-too-bright people in the North Country and some of them seem mighty happy.
Moving right along cheerfully, I'm alone in the department today. I don't have to wear earphones (but will have to keep the volume down because there are still other people in the building, rats!). I'll be unpacking books from yesterday's delivery and filling ILL requests. Flashback to when I didn't have a clerk to do that and I filled all the requests myself. High gratification but also very frustrating when you can't find the stuff. Anyway, that's what I'll be doing today and Thursday. Tomorrow I'll work on my house--oh yes I will! There is much to be done and I'm completely disgusted with myself for letting it get so cluttered, disorganized, full of dog hair and having it look so bad. My usual don't deserve to have this house. I also need to finish mowing the grass at camp--I only mowed one side of the center of the road going down there, so it looks like half a haircut. No guarantee that will happen tomorrow. There's only one cousin in residence and she's the one who owns the camp next to ours so minimal evasive action is called for.
Fourth of July party at Linda's tomorrow night. Rather subdued, I hope--not too many people involved, as of now. I'm hoping it stays that way, but her gatherings never really end up like that. I'll do my best to behave like a lady. Or at least an intelligent, civilized woman.
I think I've been sounding pretty dismal lately, and have been feeling sort of dismal too. Today I got up too early (went to sleep too late too) and walked with the dogs. This is a positive sign. I met my neighbors at 5:30 on the road--turns out they start their walks at 5. Good grief! They have the cute little dog named Angel and she and Tess love to tear around and get good exercise while Ginger, Jim and I visit. I guess it cheered me up to see someone I always see, must have calmed me a bit. I feel much more peaceful--I'm sure the walk helped, too.
I had a nice time at Linda's last night, although I did feel like an interloper and freeloader, since I sort of hung around until I was invited for dinner. My only contribution to evenings like that is a copy of the NY Times. And of course my stimulating conversation and wit. Which was sort of lacking last night. But at least I didn't drink much, and only drank wine.
I stopped to see Ken and was drinking only soda but he insisted I'd feel better if I had "a touch of the creature." He was really insistent so I felt obligated to have a small drink--peer pressure at it's worst (if you can call a 93-year old man a peer). He feels very tired and slightly confused by all this company and all these people coming around. I think he liked it best when Duncan and David were the only ones who stopped by and he could keep them straight, and he liked talking with them quietly and alone. Then all hell broke loose.
I find myself worrying too much about what people think of me. An old habit, left over from Rockford. I don't know if Rockford's social pressure is worse than some places or I was just so terribly different from everyone and wanted to fit in, always having been the one who wasn't like everyone else. Moving every year made me the one who had no ties, and my siblings were my only friends, really. Anyway I thought it would be so cool to run into a relative in the grocery store, or to visit with relatives in the same town where you lived. It just seemed odd to live in the same town as your aunts & uncles & cousins. I craved that sort of connection. But what the hell, you can't undo the past and Rockford was where we lived even if my father made fun of everything about it. It was my life and I figured out how to make friends and have a life there. Not a bad one. So wait...what was I talking about? Oh, what people think of me. I've revealed things about myself to people (someone in particular) that I've not shared before and I feel vulnerable because of that. I fear rejection (don't we all) and I feel that people (someone in particular) won't think as much of me because I'm a broken, flawed person. Then I think: well, I passed out my blog to people, and blogs are public, so what did I expect, and if I don't want to share these things, why do I record them? Must be some reason I'm sharing them. My not-very-good therapist in Boston many years ago pointed out to me that life is very complicated when your intelligent. I've wanted to be stupid ever since then (joke). I've known plenty of not-too-bright people in the North Country and some of them seem mighty happy.
Moving right along cheerfully, I'm alone in the department today. I don't have to wear earphones (but will have to keep the volume down because there are still other people in the building, rats!). I'll be unpacking books from yesterday's delivery and filling ILL requests. Flashback to when I didn't have a clerk to do that and I filled all the requests myself. High gratification but also very frustrating when you can't find the stuff. Anyway, that's what I'll be doing today and Thursday. Tomorrow I'll work on my house--oh yes I will! There is much to be done and I'm completely disgusted with myself for letting it get so cluttered, disorganized, full of dog hair and having it look so bad. My usual don't deserve to have this house. I also need to finish mowing the grass at camp--I only mowed one side of the center of the road going down there, so it looks like half a haircut. No guarantee that will happen tomorrow. There's only one cousin in residence and she's the one who owns the camp next to ours so minimal evasive action is called for.
Fourth of July party at Linda's tomorrow night. Rather subdued, I hope--not too many people involved, as of now. I'm hoping it stays that way, but her gatherings never really end up like that. I'll do my best to behave like a lady. Or at least an intelligent, civilized woman.
Monday, July 02, 2007
In full swing
And they're off ...
Lots of social activity lately, summer has begun. This year it seems overwhelming to me. Other years I've basked in it, in the beginning, really enjoyed having so many social commitments, so much to do. This year I'm feeling depressed about things, especially about my brother--I'm very sad a lot of the time, so these people seem to be intruding into the order (or ordered chaos) of my life. Two of my absolute favorites were here last week and I got to see them a few times. Not enough times, but nice times. I stayed too late at their camp one night but I couldn't get myself to leave. Everyone else had gone to bed and it was just the three of us. It felt really nice to be with them, so pleasant. I wish I could see them more often.
Anyway, Linda's here now and she is great to be with. It's completely natural for us to be together. I spend so much time at her camp so easily, sometimes I feel I should stay away, but then I realize that I'm at work most of the time she's here so it's usually OK. I think. I usually stop there on my way home for "social hour." This year I'm making a concerted effort not to drink as much--for one thing, my meds don't work if I drink a lot, and for another thing it's just not a good idea. I started this yesterday, after being a drinking ass Saturday night. Not drunken, just drinking. Too much.
Saturday was Work Weekend at camp. About 10 cousins were there and when I went down around 9:30 they were all involved in various projects. Apparently it was a "pick your own project" year. I said I would mow the road but I had an errand to run first, then went home and slept for 2 hours. And said I had to help a friend so I couldn't stay for dinner. I couldn't stand the thought of being with that many Rogers at dinner. I made dessert & dropped it off.
I'm sleeping a lot lately, hours at a stretch on weekends. Yes, this is depression, but in a mild form and basically I'm feeling OK. I lack motivation and my house is a mess--a terrible mess. I still have 1 more coat of paint on the window before I can put the bedroom back together: this will take about half an hour but I can't get myself to do it.
Anyway, I mowed the road going down to camp, tried to mingle but found it difficult because my cousin's wife/former mother-in-law was there and she always seems angry. So I went to the boat house and cleaned the refrigerator. I was going to mow but my cousin/former father-in-law was taking a nap in the cabin next to the boat house & I didn't want to wake him. Say no more! I went home, leaving the road half mowed. Although I try very hard not to care if those two approve of me or not, it's a habit that's hard to break. I spent 10 years trying very, very hard to please them--no small task, these are people who are incredibly judgmental, and once they've determined what kind of person you are you can never be anything else. It's my belief that to them I am a lazy person who made their son's life hell. Anyway, I went home and went to sleep, then went to Linda's and drank a lot.
Yesterday I got up really early, but slept a lot. I called in sick to Sunday dinner, and sort of by arrangement with each other, Linda took my spot. She had a good visit with Bill and Ken and the others who stopped by after dinner. I was glad not to be there because I was depressed and felt crummy. I slept for 4 hours in the afternoon, trying to stay awake to watch the Diana Concert--I missed all the good stuff and was only fully awake for P. Diddy and Kanye West (YUCK). It'll be on again, it was VH1, after all. I went to Linda's (was actually invited) for the evening and we had a nice time.
Today I still feel sick, sort of sad, and just found out that my car needs at least $400 worth of new brakes. And I can't figure out why I always owe $2000 on my credit card. I need quick access to $250 for firewood, and that's all I have in my savings account so that's untouchable. Every time I think I do a good job of supporting myself and my house, I think of what a lousy financial situation I'm in. Then I rationalize it by telling myself it's just expensive to drive 300 miles a week to work, to use electricity to heat your house as well as buy lots of firewood, to try to eat healthy food, to have 2 dogs, to buy liquor and wine for the Laundrys, to drive to RI 5 times a year, blahblahblah.
My sister writes of death and suffering, things I think of--more often since Henry died. I wish he hadn't live for so long after his surgery and I hope he wasn't aware of what was going on, hoping he was going to live. I don't want to be in that state. If I'm going to die, I want to know I'm going to die. I'm not afraid to die but of course I don't want to die. I think it's pretty funny that the thing I worry about in my death is whether people will think I was a good person. That sounds as if I only care what people think of me, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I hope I live my life as a good person, live a righteous life and do kind things. And that that is what I'm remembered for. That's what I worry about in death. Which is what you certainly can't control: what people will remember you for. Or remember you at all. Then I think--do I really care if people remember me? We talk about this a lot, Ken and I. It mostly has to do with cemeteries and cremation and headstones, and why you mark the spot where your remains are buried, or have some sort of marker to note your existence. He's very definite about his plans and exactly where he'll be buried (on the other side of his infant son from where his wife is buried) and I'm definite about what will happen to my body (cremated). I always thought I wanted my ashes dumped in a hole in the family cemetery with a humble headstone flush to the ground, near my parents (and now my brother). I think that's still true, but Ken and I play "where do I want my ashes?" sometimes.
So much for depression and death. This work day is progressing slowly and in a most unproductive way. The car thing has really thrown me. When I pulled into the library's driveway it made a horrible noise so I called the dealer and begged for an appointment, made the service guy laugh, made him feel sorry for me and took the car up there. Didn't expect it to be the brakes, although I had thought of that before. And put it out of my mind. So that will be $800 on the car--tires and brakes in a month. Well, that's at 57,000, and it's my "summer tires." Oh hell, what can I do.
And they're off ...
Lots of social activity lately, summer has begun. This year it seems overwhelming to me. Other years I've basked in it, in the beginning, really enjoyed having so many social commitments, so much to do. This year I'm feeling depressed about things, especially about my brother--I'm very sad a lot of the time, so these people seem to be intruding into the order (or ordered chaos) of my life. Two of my absolute favorites were here last week and I got to see them a few times. Not enough times, but nice times. I stayed too late at their camp one night but I couldn't get myself to leave. Everyone else had gone to bed and it was just the three of us. It felt really nice to be with them, so pleasant. I wish I could see them more often.
Anyway, Linda's here now and she is great to be with. It's completely natural for us to be together. I spend so much time at her camp so easily, sometimes I feel I should stay away, but then I realize that I'm at work most of the time she's here so it's usually OK. I think. I usually stop there on my way home for "social hour." This year I'm making a concerted effort not to drink as much--for one thing, my meds don't work if I drink a lot, and for another thing it's just not a good idea. I started this yesterday, after being a drinking ass Saturday night. Not drunken, just drinking. Too much.
Saturday was Work Weekend at camp. About 10 cousins were there and when I went down around 9:30 they were all involved in various projects. Apparently it was a "pick your own project" year. I said I would mow the road but I had an errand to run first, then went home and slept for 2 hours. And said I had to help a friend so I couldn't stay for dinner. I couldn't stand the thought of being with that many Rogers at dinner. I made dessert & dropped it off.
I'm sleeping a lot lately, hours at a stretch on weekends. Yes, this is depression, but in a mild form and basically I'm feeling OK. I lack motivation and my house is a mess--a terrible mess. I still have 1 more coat of paint on the window before I can put the bedroom back together: this will take about half an hour but I can't get myself to do it.
Anyway, I mowed the road going down to camp, tried to mingle but found it difficult because my cousin's wife/former mother-in-law was there and she always seems angry. So I went to the boat house and cleaned the refrigerator. I was going to mow but my cousin/former father-in-law was taking a nap in the cabin next to the boat house & I didn't want to wake him. Say no more! I went home, leaving the road half mowed. Although I try very hard not to care if those two approve of me or not, it's a habit that's hard to break. I spent 10 years trying very, very hard to please them--no small task, these are people who are incredibly judgmental, and once they've determined what kind of person you are you can never be anything else. It's my belief that to them I am a lazy person who made their son's life hell. Anyway, I went home and went to sleep, then went to Linda's and drank a lot.
Yesterday I got up really early, but slept a lot. I called in sick to Sunday dinner, and sort of by arrangement with each other, Linda took my spot. She had a good visit with Bill and Ken and the others who stopped by after dinner. I was glad not to be there because I was depressed and felt crummy. I slept for 4 hours in the afternoon, trying to stay awake to watch the Diana Concert--I missed all the good stuff and was only fully awake for P. Diddy and Kanye West (YUCK). It'll be on again, it was VH1, after all. I went to Linda's (was actually invited) for the evening and we had a nice time.
Today I still feel sick, sort of sad, and just found out that my car needs at least $400 worth of new brakes. And I can't figure out why I always owe $2000 on my credit card. I need quick access to $250 for firewood, and that's all I have in my savings account so that's untouchable. Every time I think I do a good job of supporting myself and my house, I think of what a lousy financial situation I'm in. Then I rationalize it by telling myself it's just expensive to drive 300 miles a week to work, to use electricity to heat your house as well as buy lots of firewood, to try to eat healthy food, to have 2 dogs, to buy liquor and wine for the Laundrys, to drive to RI 5 times a year, blahblahblah.
My sister writes of death and suffering, things I think of--more often since Henry died. I wish he hadn't live for so long after his surgery and I hope he wasn't aware of what was going on, hoping he was going to live. I don't want to be in that state. If I'm going to die, I want to know I'm going to die. I'm not afraid to die but of course I don't want to die. I think it's pretty funny that the thing I worry about in my death is whether people will think I was a good person. That sounds as if I only care what people think of me, but that's not what I mean. I mean that I hope I live my life as a good person, live a righteous life and do kind things. And that that is what I'm remembered for. That's what I worry about in death. Which is what you certainly can't control: what people will remember you for. Or remember you at all. Then I think--do I really care if people remember me? We talk about this a lot, Ken and I. It mostly has to do with cemeteries and cremation and headstones, and why you mark the spot where your remains are buried, or have some sort of marker to note your existence. He's very definite about his plans and exactly where he'll be buried (on the other side of his infant son from where his wife is buried) and I'm definite about what will happen to my body (cremated). I always thought I wanted my ashes dumped in a hole in the family cemetery with a humble headstone flush to the ground, near my parents (and now my brother). I think that's still true, but Ken and I play "where do I want my ashes?" sometimes.
So much for depression and death. This work day is progressing slowly and in a most unproductive way. The car thing has really thrown me. When I pulled into the library's driveway it made a horrible noise so I called the dealer and begged for an appointment, made the service guy laugh, made him feel sorry for me and took the car up there. Didn't expect it to be the brakes, although I had thought of that before. And put it out of my mind. So that will be $800 on the car--tires and brakes in a month. Well, that's at 57,000, and it's my "summer tires." Oh hell, what can I do.
viola
I really like this flower. I bought 3 of these violas from White Flower Farm, an expensive and very well known nursery in Connecticut. I used the gift certificate Julie gave me for taking care of Hugo, so they were a gift. I laughed at myself because violas (also called Johnny-jump-ups) are usually a weed you can't get rid of. I really like these and hope they will be perennials. They might not be because they're specially bred (is that what you do with plants? breed them?). I've read that eventually violas will revert back to their natural colors, which is dark purple with a dark yellow center. This one certainly has the potential for that, doesn't it.
all in a row
Pretty pots all in a row. There are more but they didn't fit in the frame. I may have gotten carried away this year, or maybe it's just that I put them all on the railing instead of having some on the deck. Some are very nice and some are sort of crappy. I have a few unusual flowers this year. Every year I like to try something new, but I also stick the old standards in there too. I bought a lots of hangers-down this year. I'm not sure they look very good, I think maybe they look sort of stupid.
coming along
I'm growing a new (for me) variety of cucumber this year: Picklebush. It doesn't spread the way the Burpee Picklers I've grown in the past do, but is supposed to grow like a bush instead. So far so good, and it has tiny blossoms aspiring to be cucumbers already. Huzzah!
its a miracle
Can you believe it?! There are blossoms on my tomato plants and it's barely July. This is a horticultural miracle of grand proportions. These are my grape tomatoes, grown in a container on my deck. The other tomatoes, the two different kinds I'm growing in the ground, who are competing against each other to see who grows the biggest, earliest (or ANY) tomatoes, are nowhere near blooming yet.
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