Anyway, the breaking of the camera set off a raggedy chain of events which caused me and the husband to get uglydolls at each other and that put a major damper on things. Pickles didn't like it, the hostility. He had to cancel his piano lesson.
Bird was upset, too. Bird put a bug in our ear and we made up Saturday and proceeded to enjoy a busy day-first we went to Comp USA or some other comparable business and DbR generously replaced the broken camera. We also enjoyed some lovely lunch at SITAR restaurant in Springfield. DbR and I were discussing "politics"-I had heard an interview with Gore Vidal on Air America the night before which galvanized me-He had referred to the republican party as a MOB and although it is an obvious comparison hearing such an astute historian say so on the radio was a great relief.-while waiting for our mango lasses and nan and I looked out the window onto Main Street Springfield and there was some sort of protest parade going by! It was only for fifteen minutes or so until all the stragglers following the people with signs, etc were passed but it was funny because DbR was just bemoaning the rights which have been taken away from us U.S. citizens for the sake of "national security" (which Obama hasn't promised to give us back, by the way) and how it was hard to protest these days and there comes this parade. It was kind of nice. Although he did mean, protest the president's speech or something of that ilk, that type of protest.
That was interesting though. We came back to the Bricker and I took some more photos and enjoyed hanging around the house and snacking here and there on this and that. I started working on the captions with my alphabet stamps while watching the idiot box. We finally settled down to the first installation of The Lord Of The Rings. That nutty Frodo! What's he up to next, I wonder? And where are my 'levensies?
Today is going to be a major driving drag because I am picking up the Kid in New Haven (after his whirlwind Sonic Youth experience) and driving him to Woods Hole, dropping him off and coming back home. All that driving for ...three hours' kid time. groan. Sure, I'll take it, but I wish that if I'm driving for seven-eight hours I should end up with Kid at the Bricker. For a couple weeks. ah, well. I'm psyched for him. He took a flight with coco and went with her family to their rock show in Brooklyn and now here I go to fetch him. For more info, ask him. That's his story to tell.
Kid knows what he's doing back there.
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