Nobody was awake just now when the piano teacher crept in to afflict the children. And from the sounds of it, nobody practiced. And someone is learning the theme from Charlie Brown, against my express and clearly stated wishes.
The temperature is dropping into the depths of Sheol. I went and found my winter boots yesterday, and I decided that maybe the children do need warm socks after all. But don’t worry, I won’t go shopping on Thanksgiving, nor probably even Black Friday—except maybe just to Alice’s Closet because it’s so cozy over there and I probably need to just have a look around…and Alice, if that is really her name, is so cheerful and clearly wants me to be there and always has an array of little things to munch in case I—and every other knowing woman—is still peckish even after all the turkey.
Oh, and yesterday evening Karen Swallow Prior and I were on the Ride Home with John and Kathy talking about the Pelican Project (roughly about the 1:13 mark). Observe how easily I just throw out the names of intelligent, famous and wonderful people as if I am their close personal friend. In our house, Karen Swallow Prior is KSP—a household name really—and the children stare wide-eyed and laughing at me when I gesture wildly at them to BE QUIET, I’m On The Radio, or on the phone, or anything important. Pity our old fashioned phone has to be in the kitchen where abides all the food which has to be eaten all the time because everyone is always starving to death. If you listen you’ll notice that Karen is calm and on message, like she has both thought about it before hand, and knows exactly what she wants to say. I think about things before hand too, but all those thoughts fly away the moment my mouth starts moving. Some of my own answers surprised even me. Give it a listen! And check out the Pelican Project if you haven’t yet. New links are up this week.
Anyway, I’ve gotta go bake a bunch of pies and clean my house again, after cleaning it already. I had this insane idea that if I cleaned it first, early in the week, that task would be over and off my list and then I could do other things. What a foolish thought that was. Turns out if you clean it first, you have to spend all your time cleaning again, which you can’t do because you’ll have to go to sleep at night, even just for an hour or so. And while you’re lying there, cocooned in darkness, lost to the world, the cat will go hunting in the laundry and bring you ten or twenty oddly selected pieces of clothing as offerings, because she’s already killed and eaten all the mice. She will call to you, in the night, to tell you that she has brought you all these special presents. Then she will go to sleep in her bowl and you will wander up and down in the derrière of the rosy fingered dawn, recollecting all the laundry and wondering why there are so many cats but so little caffeine in the world.
So anyway, have a lovely day if you think of it. Or whatever kind of day it is that you feel like, or have to have. Be careful driving! There are crazy people out there. Some of them are probably soul mates with my cat.
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