Saturday, May 30, 2009

Dear diary

It has been a long time since we last "spoke". It's not that I don't want to write or that I don't have things to say. It's just that by the end of the day, a day spent on a computer at work, I'm not too interested in spending even more time in front of a PC. Maybe I should try for a weekly recap instead.

Let's see. Last weekend was Women's Weekend. A group of us have been getting together twice a year for over 30 years. It started as a response to our husbands' annual Memorial Day canoe trip. Our first "weekend" was just an afternoon, as many had nursing babies, but eventually we settled on a Friday-to-Sunday ritual, usually at a cabin on a nursery that the family of one of the women owns. We spend our time playing cards, watching movies, eating (but less and more healthily than in previous years), drinking (also less), smoking (cigarettes!), and talking, talking, talking. Over the years the topics have evolved, but we still have plenty to discuss. I enjoy the time spent with these friends, but I always come home exhausted and in need of detox.

Monday was Memorial Day, a paid holiday where I work. I had a massage scheduled in the morning, but got waylaid by a lost dog. I was eventually able to both reschedule the massage for noon, plus reunite dog and owner. Then, besides catching up on the usual weekend chores like laundry, I worked in the yard with the help of my SO who this year has been doing most of the "heavy lifting" - anything requiring more upper body strength than I can muster.

Tuesday it was back to work - ugh - and yoga in the evening. Wednesday, work and date night. We tried out a new place, the House of Greens - not bad, we'll be back - and went shopping for a new mattress for my bed. I have a queensize waterbed frame, but gave up the waterbed mattress about ten years ago. The current mattress has a definite valley in the center which is beginning to take its toll on my back. I was just going to replace it with something similar, but made the mistake of testing a memory foam mattress. More expensive but also more comfortable. Now I am torn. Wish I knew people who have these so I could quiz them, not only on the mattress's sleepability but also how they would grade it as a platform for sex. These things are important!

Thursday more work and new tires. I hate tire places in general - maybe it is the fumes - and they never want to make actual appointments and they don't have shuttles. I did get a lot of knitting done, though, and I am happy with the new tires. On the way home, I made the mistake of stopping at the Niagara store and wasted 'way too much time there because they are so desperate to make a sale that they did not want me to leave and I'm too polite to just walk out. By the time I got home, I was grumpy because most of the evening was shot, so I just put on jammie pants and sat down to finish Homicide My Own, by Anne Argula (if you like mysteries with strong female characters, this series is for you). My son called just to chat, which was nice and helped lift my spirits.

(One of the things we talked about was how most people live beyond their means because they cannot defer gratification, but not us. He said, I must have had good parents. And I said, I must have had good parents. And he said, And Dad turned out okay anyway. Heh.)

And then it was Friday. It has been raining for days around here and even though it looked threatening, I spent several hours out in the yard, working off the week's frustrations. Later in the evening, I started The Secret Life of Bees, by Sue Monk Kidd, but just could not keep my eyes open.

The weekend is finally here, with the usual chores but also the opportunities for R&R. Time for breakfast, yoga, and grocery shopping. Ta!

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