Oh grave, where is thy victory?
Sorry. Couldn’t resist.
Only a wee titch of drama around here. Joe was supposed to take the Grey Lady to the shop yesterday; I haven’t been able to get her started. So I call him at 1 to remind him he was to be there at 1:30. He calls back about 1:30 wondering if I’d seen his keys. I said no, and told him to keep looking for them. I said a prayer. Now you’ve got to understand this; usually when something’s lost, I say a prayer and we find it almost immediately. So I honestly didn’t think much about it again. Then I called him about 3:45 to find out if he had any news on the car, and he hadn’t gone because he still hadn’t found his keys. We tore the place apart last night looking for those dang keys. Now the keys themselves aren’t that big a deal–I can (and will) get duplicates made–but he used as a key chain the collar and tag of our first dog, Stan. So he was heartbroken about losing that. I’m not without hope that they’ll turn up in some exceedingly bizarre place.
And he had to leave today for Minnesota. Usually on flight days we get up at 5:30 and leave at 6. That gives me time to get him to the airport and get to work on time (actually 15 minutes early, which is how I like it). As we got onto the freeway, we saw that there was an accident at the intersection just past our house. As we passed said exit, he suddenly panicked. He’d forgotten his phone. That’s important enough that we had to turn around and go back home. I was 10 minutes late to work, but he was able to get on his plane. He’ll be back for the weekend before leaving for San Francisco next week.
Last night he made his famous mashed potatoes, and I have a nice lovely bowlful in the refrigerator. The question is not whether I will eat them, but rather will I be good and have a chicken breast and some veggies along with them and make them last two days, or whether I will just sit down and have a bowl of mashed potatoes for dinner. Frankly, I’m inclined toward the latter option. Fiber schmiber. I can always have a bowl of All-Bran before bedtime.
Still on the Dorothy L. Sayers kick; last night we watched Strong Poison. The actor who plays Harriet Vane reminds us both very strongly of Keira Knightly, so I imdb’d her and was interested to see that she’d played Knightly’s mother in Atonement.
Oh, I didn’t even say much about the new furniture, did I? Shame on me! Our new bedroom furniture was delivered last weekend. I can’t post pictures yet because Izzy still has my camera, but the bedroom looks so nice and warm and cozy now. The bed’s high enough that Molly can’t jump up onto it, so we got some steps. She’s afraid of them and won’t use them, but Scout does, which saves his back a bit. So last night I picked Molly up and put her onto the bed, and we all snuggled up together to watch the show. If anyone has any ideas how to teach a recalcitrant border collie to use the steps to get onto the bed, I’d appreciate hearing about them. We tried treats and coaxing and demonstrating. At one point we got her to put her two front paws on the middle step, but she would go no further.
I have a rip-roaring sore throat. It started yesterday about 3:00. I’ll run out to the drugstore during my lunch break and get some lozenges. The ones I have at work don’t do that great a job at numbing the pain, and they taste absolutely disgusting.
Hey, go send Chicory some love if you get a moment. She’s having her gall bladder out tomorrow. K THX BAI.
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