Momomama
At four in the morning, the coyotes were howling. Howling so loud that I woke up. Bill doesn't even snore that loud.
We visited with one of our neighbors at our camp. We pulled up in front of their house, where they were sitting on the porch, drinking beers. The man, P., had his hand all bandaged up. He's a forklift repairman, so I was guessing he hadn't had a kitchen accident. In fact, he was working on one of his machines at a car dealership, when something moved and hit something else, that made his hand get crushed in something else. Oh, and it made his middle finger fall off. OFF. It's been reattached, but he told us he's sort of hoping that it doesn't make it, so he'll get $100,000 from his accidental death and dismemberment policy. Oh, and he's not taking any painkillers, because he'd rather drink beer. He wins for toughest.
She's waiting for me. Woth smooth red curves and that gyrating motion that just does the trick. Betty. The Kitchen-Aid Stand Mixer. God Bless Her. She saw me through anadama bread on Sunday. Tonight? Oatmeal Chocolate chio cookies. With nuts. And raisins.
Last night it was cold and rainy, the perfect weather for curling up on the couch with the dog (shhh..I know he's not supposed to be up there!) and a good book. But instead I had to read The Wedding. Well, that's done. One night, 260 odd pages, and not much for discussion! Luckily the next book club meeting is on the porch of E's boathouse. We'll be distracted by the beauty.
I listened to NPR's convention coverage and fell in love, like everyone else, with Barack Obama. The night before I re-fell in love with Bill Clinton. Who will be next?
At 9 o'clock yesterday morning, I went to get the paper and was met with the sight of the human body at it's utmost. I sat in the field across our little road for hours yesterday, watching the ironmen and ironwomen stream by on bicycles. Each biker passed twice, during the 112 mile bike leg of the race, and most of them looked no more tired the second time. After the bike race had passed and the roads were reopened, we drove up to Lake Placid to watch the run finish. We parked on the edge of town and we had to walk along the marathon course to get to the Speed Skating Oval, where the finish line was. Watching this part of the race made the people in it seem more human to me...as most of them (these were not the leaders, but rather people finishing in 14 or so hours) were walking the final miles of the course. I was fascinated with the bodies, and what they could do. Why were two men, lean and muscled from head to two walking, while a curvy rounded woman was still trotting along at a bouncy pace? Endurance, I guess. We watched the racers round the final turn (all were back to running...) and I could not help feeling proud of everyone of them and inspired and wondering if maybe, just maybe, I could make my body do such an amazing thing one day.
I'm considering going for a jog after work.
I love my book club. We started the club just after I moved up here, and so I love this club because it feels so solidly MINE. We are an interesting group, I think. The other members are a librarian, an administrator in a warehouse, a social worker, a property caretaker, a counselor at a college. They have kids ranging in age from 6 months to thirty years. Some are natives to the area, and others have moved from far away. And one even knows my mom from many many years ago. We have read great bgooks: Year of Wonders, East of Eden, The Botany of Desire, White Teeth. Then why, oh why, did we end up with our next book: The Wedding, by Nicholas Sparks? Will it be as bad as I imagine?
I'm back to being upset about insurance again.
Bill and I have ongoing talks about having kids. Really, the only thing stopping me is money. And the cost of insurance. We make too much for any assistance, and not enough to afford the $500 a month to cover us all. (The all is hypothetical.)
This is expecially ironic seeing as I just became a member of the Uninsured Task Force here in Upstate NY.
Every once in a while I get a deep and intense longing for television.
We currently have a 25 year old tv and two channels worth of reception. NBC and Fox. Which means I can watch the OC, but not much else. I just learned that I am missing a season of the Amazing Race and I was devastated. I had a feeling not unlike homesickness.
The summer is okay, but I can just imaging what the winter (which basically starts next month up here) will be like. I go back and forth on getting a new tv and a dish. I want to be one of those people who reads and does crafts instead of watching tv. But I also love the pop culture. LOVE IT. And I can do crafts in front of the tv.
Bill leaves for Alaska for two months at the end of August, and I have a sinking feeling he will return to 200 channels.
This morning my husband asked me, "Have you lost weight?"
"Since when?"
"Yesterday."
Yeah.
Anyway, I got my hair cut this weekend. Apparently that's what EVERYONE does after they get married. Is this true?
Late in the day, there's nothing like drinking an ice cold glass of Moxie while discuss the body hair of spouses with co-workers.
This morning I was inches from hitting a number of woodland creatures with my car. I was driving along at my usual 70 mile an hour clip (I know, I know, but truly nothing is on these roads but the occasional woodland creature and or logging truck). I didn't even see the fawn until it appeared just in front of my left headlight. I swerved. Which seemed to have scared the piliated woodpecker into flight, because it passed about a foot in front of my windshield.
The joys of nature.
On the honeymoon we saw moose and beaver and deer and turtles and ospreys and other birds of teh sky and animals of the earth. But we didn't come close to hitting a one. I geuss the wedding karma is over.
I had a week in the woods (different from my usual woods) and I could use another. The wedding was wonderful - I have never felt so much love flowing all at once. We managed to enjoy ourselves, too. We just keep looking at each other and feeling like the luckiest people in the world.
