snowy and snowy

today i came home from work and shovelled my sidewalk. it felt pretty good to do the job and complete the task. during the last little bit of the move i looked back and there was another sticky layer on top of the surface i had just cleared. i shovelled it up and the snow continued to lay on me and the sidewalk during every minute of the exercise. after 2 clearings i went inside. there are just so many times one can let one's intentions be known before the repetition becomes tiresome. i can't fight the flakes. they are relentless.

hungry

hungry at my desk. haven't eaten anything since a cupcake at DbR's last night, circa 10:44 pm. Sure, he offered me a sandwich but I didn't want it. Now, hungry. Will be leaving desk and office in search for food. Maybe just over at the Big Y...still contemplating course of action at this time.

Hungry.

Never have enough

Sitting with our respective lappys in a clean and well-appointed albeit slightly sterile hotel room in rhinebeck, ny, I prod my travel partner for a blog post. I immediately regret my request when he reacts somewhat defensively. I think I just haven't drank enough booze. ha.

I'm superglad DbR agrees with me that a more used, more "seasoned" inn room would be more desireable than this one. This has all the amenaties and is perfectly clean, etc. but has very little personality. The most personality I can glean is the collection of 8-9 paperbacks in a cornershelf. I don't regret being here with my love, but it's not a room I would go crazy over and want to repeat visit.

Meanwhile, Beekman Arms, the tavern where Henry and Nancy, David and I ate dinner, was very lovely and felt great to visit. The beams and ceilings are very low and I imagine George Washington and Alexander Hamilton stooping down to pass under them many years ago as DbR had to tonight. We all ate meat and drank beers, cabernet and the birthday boy drank a fancy scotch. "Happy Birthday" was sang and we watched Nancy eat her strawberry shortcake.

We ponder our later moves in the chessgame of the Birthday Weekend as we type on our lappys like the modern couple of lovers we are.

hideous desk

Horrible Snacker.

ow

Have a raging headache with a side of nausea. Sitting at my desk at work waiting for the pills and alka setzer gold to kick in.
Want to throw up a little bit

candy day, candy land

At work I am the purchaser, which includes the bimonthly task of going out to BJs or wherever and buying 4 or 5 big bags of candy which I then empty into a box, mix up thoroughly and place in my boss, the CEO's, candy basket in her office. People from the immediate office vicinity and even others from distance office locales all descend upon the candy basket, usually around this time of day looking for a chocolate pick me up.

I usually get twizzlers or even some other kind of fruity candy as it is what I favor and it is nice to have a change of flavor, next to the chocolate onslaught. Today, at long last, I dragged a coworker along and we went to the BJs. We bought some easter egg-y type treats, as well as the usual favorites and for the fruity candy I saw and grabbed a large container of Sunkist fruit gems, five different colors of soft fruity gel candy-ness. These were the ones I took a few of back to my desk after coming back to the office and shaking all the candy down into the basket. Word got out and peops started filing in looking for a treat, the basket having been depleted a week or more ago.

My other boss came in. "Candy, candy, who's got the candy?" she sang and swung into the office. I heard her exclaim and catch her breath as she saw the goods. It was quite dramatic. "What? Why did you just make that noise?" I called to her. She came out, grinning. "Remember when you left to go buy candy and you asked me if there was anything special I wanted? Well, I was going to ask you to get these." She showed me a couple of green fruity gems.

"Oh my god, that is amazing!" I agreed.
"Thanks a lot, Lauri!" She said with sincerity and took off down the hall with a hand full.

That's why I'm here.

smushed toes

My toes are squeezed into sneakers with my aircast and it doesn't feel great. I guess I may just take the sneaker off while I am at work.

When I got to my desk this morning at work, there was a small box of Dots, anonymously left by someone who knows my proclivity. Touched my heart.


In other news, I find from my roofing guy that I should replace 1/3rd of my roof. It is the very top part which is flat and untold years old and very worn. The rest of the roof is at an angle and has lovely slate on it, which is doing very well. But this top part holds onto the snow, sleet and suchlike and ergo, the leak, the drip. He thinks I should replace this flat top with a sturdier material with a longer life than the crap which is up there now. I don't doubt he is right about this. Even though he did some repair/patch work on the area of the leak out there, the drip continues. Now I am worried about the inside of the roof bit. What's the damage in there? How does one tell? There is no crawl space where the drip commences and so I am baffled as to how one would go about repair work in this area. I suppose my bedroom ceiling can be removed/replaced in the obtainment of securing this obscure area. Something to think about.

I can't make a good cup of coffee to save my life

I've been going through an unfortunate stage where I can't quite get my coffee dimensions right in the pot and my cups of joe turn out too strong or a little bit..not right. I hope I turn the corner regarding this situation soon.

Meanwhile, my ankle is getting better. I am toddling about without crutches and can even go without the cane I have acquired. I like to have the cane, though. Today I will try to drive to work using my left foot to shift gears. That'll be interesting. Let's hope I can get the car out. Last night the boyfriend couldn't quite lift it off the ice. It would suck if this continues true this morning. argh.

Lastly, in my bedroom, there is a leak in the ceiling coming from the roof-either a broken slate or perhaps the skylight is fucked, I don't know because I am no roofer. My roof is atop a large 3 story house and it scares me to think of someone up there but it must happen. The dripping is getting worse and it definitely dampens my enjoyment of sitting in bed reading. Sure, I can still enjoy my book but every so often (about every 10 drips or so), I get distracted by the water flow and start to worry and fret. Well, I finally called the roofer and he said he'd come over this afternoon. I won't be here to witness the ascent but I will be worried about it all day long. I said to the guy, "Be careful. I know you know your business but when I think of someone way up there, I get a little worried." He said thanks and hung up.

"Jealous Guy" by John Lennon keeps playing in my head, thanks to the piped in music at Rein's Deli last Sunday afternoon.

How Long That I Have Waited..

I listen to songs by Burt Bacharach and even though I know that love in life comes and goes, I still feel triumphant, like the kid I was back at Lake Ontario when I would jump off the rowboat with my brother and a friend or two in water a couple feet over my head and search the surrounding sandy bottom for whatever treasure we decided to throw into the water that day, coming to the surface with the thing I had found, showing it off proudly.
The simple childhood game would have us throwing the thing in, sometimes watching it descend into the water, sometimes throwing it over our shoulders and not looking. Then we would all dive in, off the boat, and swim swim swim to the bottom and by feeling around or opening our eyes we would search for the thing. One favorite item to seek was the metal ladder we would use to climb up into the boat with from the water. It would fill up with water (it was hollow) and sink down. The first time we had to go after it, it was a mistake. Someone had dropped it and, horrified, we watched it sink deeper and deeper. We jumped in after it and after a hurried search, I felt the thing under my hands and I dragged it up to the surface, eagerly reattaching it to the boat. After that first mistake we used it as our prey often. It was big and easy to find but not too easy as it was light enough to drift about. I have always been a finder. When people lose something around me I am always up for a search. I love to be the one who discovers the missing.

My brother is visiting from Alaska this month and we haven't really hung out in a long time the way we are hanging out now. It's a little bit hard getting used to being with him. I see him do things that worry me and I can't help but feel uptight about it and I'm not going to shut up about my feelings, I trust he wouldn't want me to, but I do understand that my delivery may be a little bit..harried or annoyed/annoying.

One thing which is nice is that he and I have both found love. Right now we are both embroiled in love relationships which aren't more than two months old and I like that we both have the excitement. He is hanging out with me and DbR and it's obvious he can see the love and enjoyment. I can tell he would like to share his love with me because he says things like, "You would really like Blueberry." and "I hope you and Blueberry get to meet, you would like her." He and I compared our lonely years without companions and we are pretty much on the same trajectory, which is interesting.

Hard won, this love and happiness. Sought and found, after many lonely moon cycles. We come to the surface of the lonely lake with our hands full of our love, eager to show off our prizes.

It's nice to hear the Bacharach and feel the sweet, not so much the bitter.

fucking dogs

Ok, I have a broken ankle, have I mentioned that? Anyway, I am pretty sick of being all up in bed and queasy and lame, etc. so I came home at 4 30 and started hanging around my office/dining room and clearing off the desk and throwing shit away and just touching my stuff and it felt great. I wasn't tired or cranky or sore. Sure, I had my foot up and drinking a beer but no biggie. It was almost like normal.

Later, DbR came over and brought Peretz and the dogs immediately went at it and what I'm seeing from their behavior is that Peretz expects the worst from Pickles (unsolicited and nonconsentual humping) and preemptorily goes on the defensive and in doing this action he has become the alpha dog. Pickles hasn't gotten pissed about it to the point where he attacks in any way, which I am thankful for because I'm afraid of his mice and men proclivities. Only once did I see humping while Peretz whined and barked loudly toward him upon the hindquarters. At this we immediately separate them and discipline Pickles. So on and on Pickles will approach and Peretz will loudly bark and hysterically get all freaked out and LOUD....man. That dog is too loud. Pickles eventually backs off but in the meantime, what a drag.

Time progresses. There are moments of peacefulness, but usually with humans in between. Pickles starts running away from the old loud dog. DbR and I start disciplining Peretz for his unreasonableness. At one point he herds Pickles away from where the humans are sitting. This is unacceptable.

DbR just left me alone with the dogs. They are milling about the living room while I am over here at my desk, away from them with my broken ankle. It's blessedly quiet. I glance over at the "couch" and both dogs are lying on the thing together....not next to each other but the "couch" is barely 6 1/2 feet by 3 feet big so they are together with nary a growl or nudge. Is there hope after all for our family? I was beginning to despair.

"broken ankle" part 2

Have you ever gone to reach for a paperclip at your desk and the paperclip container was covered by some stray paper or envelope and you just want to cry from frustration? I just had that moment. But then, I found the paperclips and the CFO/CEO came into my office and did a funny song and dance routine and I was cheered a little bit. hurray.


When I broke my ankle last time, I didn't see my kid that much--I didn't want to drive the long distance with a broken paw and it is hard to travel in July traffic around the Cape, anyhow-So when we did hang out I was fairly healed and could get around without crutches so much-which is good-but I was still somewhat of a slowpoke for the most part. Whenever he scooted faster than I could deal with, like around Northampton or the town of Greenfield, I would call out, "Broken Ankle!" Or if he needed me to hurry up downstairs or over to the ferry boat in Woods Hole, I would plaintively cry, "Broken Ankle!" to remind him of my plight. I guess I haven't done with that excuse yet. Poor kid.

"broken ankle"

Have I mentioned that last June 26th I fell down my bedroom stairs, landing in front of the bathroom, breaking my right ankle? I immediately got up, walked to the toilet, sat down on the cover and cried with pain. Then I took a shower, got dressed and staggered out to my car. I didn't make it though-half way to the car I collapsed on a couple bags of top soil and cried some more with the pain. I brought myself back inside and called in sick to work.

So, now I have my left ankle broken and I'm a little bewildered about my life's absurdity. What am I supposed to learn from this? What is my lifelesson here? Don't walk the dog? Don't go downstairs to the bathroom? Bad luck happens when one is alone and lonely and also when one is deliriously in love?

At work now (shouldn't be writing this) sitting at my desk and a co-worker was out in the break room singing a child-like song to the doctor about morning's blessing is coffee, etc etc. Her lovely high voice makes me goosebumpy in a nice way and afterwards she came into my office to offer her sympathy to my plight. After that, another co worker breezed through offering me oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

I still feel sorry for myself.

The Future

Tomorrow is the first day back to work since the break. I am dreading the end of this four-day haitus. I'm trying to remember when I broke my ankle last June 26th and how I was truly "up and at 'em" generally from the get-go. The luxury of having someone take care of me four days straight has kind of wiped out my industriousness/independent drive. It's hard to understand the balance: being resilient and independent but also letting oneself be cared for. It's either all or nothing for me which has created a little bit of a marshmallow in me, more than usual.

I'm still worried about driving my five speed with the broken left-DbR said something about switching cars but that is too complicated for me to actually take in at this point. I have to go to work tomorrow. How am I going to do that?

The Ice Treachery Of Greenfield

I was walking my dog on Thursday-it was sunny and beautiful. I had just finished talking to DbR on the phone and exclaimed about how lovely it was and I slipped on some ice which had formed on the snow left behind on someone's sidewalk. I slipped and as I went down I heard and I felt a firm *snap*! and I immediately feared the worst. I lay on the sidewalk moaning a little bit and trying to adjust to the state of affairs, the dog sitting next to me, my hand still wrapped in his leash.

I was bummed.

Later, I was told by the xray that my left ankle was broken in 2 places.

I'm being cared for by my big sonic nurse. Thank you cards can be sent to David Russell, 74 Conz St # 2, Northampton.