So much of life seems to be all about planning 6 months ahead, a year ahead, a year and a half ahead. Maybe that’s especially because we have children. I remember when they were small that as soon as I got back to work from Christmas vacation I had to begin plotting out the summer, which always seemed impossible. But it’s still that way. N will be in Hungary this spring and wants to go to Russia for the summer, which brings on all kinds of visa headaches (because how can you apply for a visa while you’re in Hungary? Maybe it’s possible.) And then N and M are planning an adventure in Ireland. Assuming that any of this is possible, I’ve drafted out a list of who is flying where when. The good thing is that we may have N home for a whole two weeks at the end of next summer — that would be nice.
M brought home Mark Doty’s Dog Years, which I’m enjoying a lot. That’s my mother’s dog, above. I’m beginning to want a dog, but how can I have one when I’m at work all day?
Hmmm. Another plan for the future. Meanwhile, M and I watch Victoria Stillwell in It’s Me or the Dog, and now we think we’re experts.