It's been a pretty good 24 hours since last I wrote, and just the fact that I'm writing again in so short a time span is noteworthy. The Norwegian is still in Virginia, but is finished with the work that needed to be done and will be headed home shortly. I had a wonderful dinner out last night with two of my best friends. Spurred by the discovery of a disc of photos of our collective children from five years ago, we organized an impromptu girls night out to share some baba ganoush, falafel, feta cheese and other assorted yummy things. These are the best of all possible type of friends--two remarkable women with delightful families. Dear Daughter tumbles into the mix of their combined six children and they all get enjoy one another as much as the grownups do.
Here are some events -- some more interesting than others-- that have occurred today:
1. An early meeting that I thought was going to be three people morphed into 12 people, including a CIO, three laptop computers, a SMART board (truly a fun and useful piece of technology I wouldn't mind owning at home), a projector and not nearly enough coffee. I stayed true to the Clint Eastwood School of Time and Events Management and adapted, improvised, and overcame. Still, there's nothing like a little advance warning and planning, and trust me, this was NOTHING like advance planning.
2. A wheelchair-bound ex-con approached me at a gas station today, professing to love Jesus and asking me for money. I warned him that I don't carry cash, but he could have whatever I had. When that turned out to be a whopping $.25, he started to say something ugly and dear reader, I have to admit I about snapped. I pointed out to him that it was $.25 more than he'd had five minutes ago and he could take it or leave it. Guess which option he chose?
3. My modest but beloved Subaru Outback, over which I agonized when I bought it four years ago, if only for the $24 it cost to fill it up when new, drank FORTY-SEVEN DOLLARS WORTH OF GAS THIS EVENING. I am still reeling.
4. This evening I reclaimed and moved from my mother's house the 50 pound 1928 Royal typewriter my parents bought from a neighborhood estate sale when I was about nine years old. It was on this sweet piece of machinery that I learned to "type" and first discovered the joy of stringing together words into plays, essays, short stories and really bad poetry. The silk ribbon is dry and wrinkled, the case is grey with dust and the roller is starting to crack with age. I doubt if it will ever be truly functional again, but it will be nice to have it in my house again, as a reminder of those days.
5. I bought 50 yards of six-inch wide gold tulle and 100 yards of six-inch ivory tulle at a craft store. I swear Martha Stewart is not taking over my brain, but with 136 days left, some of my co-workers have pointed out it might be useful to start doing some planning. There. I bought some tulle. I hope this counts as a start.