Cath Emery

09:43 pm: Entertainment provides itself sometimes
Craft night was tonight.  At one point, several people were up and looking out the front window because it was raining.  Then they started giggling, because a neighbor came out, got into her car, drove across the street to the mailbox, picked up the mail, and drove back to the mailbox.

I am going to be having a good wallow in nostalgia, I guess, because one person has followed up on something she said recently by bringing over a pile of printout from years past.  She still remembers the first Meva story, and the city of wizards, and Deathwatch when it was called Firemoon.  I don't know what else is in there.

I ran across a bunch of this stuff downstairs when I was looking for my birth certificate, too.

10:03 am: I have not forgotten how to spin. I have been slow, but I am almost finished with this Rambouillet.

06:48 pm: So I've been in the miniatures department for a while, in the other room, with a bunch of different ideas including replacing some grossly yellowed wallpaper and doing some repainting on the blue house.

I have new wallpaper cut for three rooms, have two to go (no paper chosen) and one I think can stay the same, unless I find a new paper I love so much I have to use it.

Unfortunately I have a damaged spot in the tape wiring, which I am wondering if I can solder: it's in a really awkward place. I want a junction splice to make attaching the wire easy, and I don't have one. At least I haven't found one, though I haven't checked thoroughly downstairs. It took 10 minutes to find my wire tester but at least it showed up. I haven't done this kind of work in years and I'm out of practice. I had to look up how to attach the spade lugs and how the connection wire is supposed to be used (to connect two tape runs).

07:40 pm: Columbines are blooming. They're nice, but small. I need more flowers that are blooming now. Not that there's room for them. ...

08:23 am: Two nights ago:  "My feet are cold.  I'm almost cold all over.  There aren't quite enough blankets."

Last night:  "I'm hot.  There are too many blankets."

Spring really is going to turn into summer eventually.

08:21 pm: When we arrive at the other house we unpack the car. He carries in tools, boxes of kitchen gear, the laundry basket.

I put away the fridge items. I make the bed if it needs it and put the clothes in the closet.

And we go for a walk. It's rather like letting your dog out of the car, though: off we go, turn to the right, down the path, left past the well house, down the dry streambed, under the fallen tree, left and up to Marilyn's 'beach' (we have permission!), back down the bank to see this other fishing hole, and then to the backwater where the minnows hang, and on to our beach with its new-this-year log. Down to the end of that stretch, back up (like the dog, who refused to walk by the waves after G let a sneaker wave go up his back legs, G chooses the path because the pathless way soaked his feet earlier in the year). Through the yard, past the shop, past the metal building, along the driveway and the fenced garden and up to the mailbox for our helping of junk mail.

Back to the house, having circled and done our equivalent of sniffing everything. Luckily, we don't feel obliged to mark our territory, just to look at it. :)

07:46 am: Dad's getting stir crazy, understandably enough.  He wanted to go with to the DEQ and was a bit put out when the women both went all twittery with disapproval.  Five more weeks of bone knitting time. . . but I don't think anyone will be able to keep him trapped indoors that full length of time.

04:55 pm: So the next time I get the least bit humorous about excitement in my life, I guess I should be prepared?

My dad fell off his garage roof onto the blacktop Saturday, agreed to go to the emergency room on Sunday, got pins in his hip Sunday afternoon, and is now starting his six weeks of recovery and looking at how he can get home instead of going to rehab.

I heard a rumor he wants me to be turned into a physical therapist in a few easy lessons; not sure how well *that* would work out, though I can understand wanting to go home.

07:26 am: You want exciting?  Yesterday I mopped floors.

You won't find exciting here, thank goodness.  Mopping floors is not *supposed* to be exciting.

01:36 pm: Those entertaining days
I knew it was going to be one of those days when I discovered I'd put the shower curtain up wrong side out, so the little suction cups on the sides weren't in the right place.

G said to me a few minutes ago, sounding disturbed, "I'm waiting for a thing!"

"Darling, we don't have a Thing," I replied. "Thing Distribution, Inc. did a home visit and we didn't have enough of the right kind of habitat."

"Hmmph!"