M is working on a new project. It’s a good year for her.
We’re arranging a party at work tomorrow, and it seems to be taking a ridiculous amount of time.
And now I go home and carve pumpkins. Well, first I have to buy the pumpkins. I’m just behind this year, and I don’t know why.
feels like a toothache this year.
That’s N in the back there, washing dishes.
- It sounds like a sick ward in my office — everyone is coughing and hacking.
- Maybe I’m getting sick? Maybe that explains the crabby attitude and desire to be asleep?
- I guess I have to get pumpkins this weekend and carve them. How can this have crept up on me? I am so happy that I will not be staying up til midnight sewing a fairy princess costume.
- If I were a large landform, like a hill or something, I would turn over now and go back to sleep.
I love this picture. I like the sun and the clouds and the spikey, spikey grasses. But look! There is also my sister’s ipad, and K’s head!
That is all.
It’s still rainy. I am overcome with crabbiness. I would like the time to change. I’ve been eating the fine fine vegetables that came in our vegetable box for dinner and they are good. I’ve nearly finished the blanket-thing I’m knitting. I’m really tired, although I slept well last night.
That’s all I’ve got.
I am having a day.
I had to be at a meeting at 8:30, which is just too damn early. I need some time to sit quietly at my desk before starting the day.
Then I had to lug 20 pounds of fruit up the hill. (I volunteered to bring in fruit for an event. Why?)
Because my head is still full of Siberia, and because I was wearing my galoshes and a big shawly-scarf, I felt like a babushka returning home to the highrise village with my just-in-case bag. Also, it was warm enough, and blowy enough, that I felt too warm and also annoyed as my scarf kept blowing off.
Now I am waiting to go cut up said fruit with my eager colleague . . .
Now I’m back from that.
Grr. It’s almost a hangover from watching the ball-game AND the debate at the same time while fighting with K over the last of the eggplant parmigiana. Which was delicious.
And it rained again last night, which was lovely.
I’m a little worried that the cat feels lonely at home all day without us. At night she goes to sleep in M’s room, and then comes in later to sleep on top of us.
Anyway — that’s that.
Supposedly, the weather is turning. Only 72 today, and rain next week! That is exciting.
What was with this week? I’ve been insanely busy at all moments this week. I think I won’t go home early today to see the Giants. I think I’ll just stay late and try to get a bunch of stuff taken care of. Also, superstitiously, I think they might do better without me breathing down their necks.
M has at this moment survived midterms. N has a ticket to come home for thanksgiving. I’m still really enjoying Siberia. Maybe this really will be the weekend for my 10 miles hike. And taking up the rest of the bad grass.
Or not. We’ll see.
I took this picture this morning, after I closed all the windows and pulled all the shades in the hope of keeping the house cool. It’s supposed to be almost 90 today. Too hot.
I’m thinking about reading non-fiction today. I’ve been reading Ian Frazier’s Siberia, which I’ve already read, because it’s on A’s kindle, which I am trying out with a view toward buying it, if I want it. And I recently read M’s paper on obsidian dating, which she wrote for her anthropology class. She wanted me to read it to determine whether or not she should take some wodehouseian phrasing out of the opening paragraph. I didn’t know, and she left it in, and apparently the professor liked it. Siberia starts kind of like an undergraduate, or maybe even high school, paper — recounting pretty ordinary facts and not delving too deeply. And then it takes a turn and you get to Frazier’s own experiences.
Both kind of interesting ways to either inject personality into a factual summary, or to inject a factual summary into a memoir.