You're Doing It Wrong

I had over 300 photos in my 2014 Snow Day folder, too. I trimmed that one down to 96.

(Underwear arrived on Thursday. Yay. And the last piece shipped on Friday. Cross your fingers.)

I have about 1000 photos that I would love to post. Daffodils. Tulips. Garden. Timbers. You are missing out. Not sure when I will get to it. Probably not this weekend.

Meanwhile, this is my new garden friend. No collar. Not sure if she has a home or someone in the neighborhood is feeding her. She’s scrawny but not in distress that I can see. She hangs out and watches me. She doesn’t run away but she doesn’t come to me if I talk to her. When I’m working I can see her creeping up to me and she’ll sit by me as long as I ignore her. The minute I look at her or if I stand up she runs and hides in the bushes.

My sweetheart and I were trying to figure out the exact date that we met. I told Bob: “I have calendars we can look at.”

“You have calendars?”

I have kept these calendars since I was in college (80′s). Now it’s how my mind works — this is how I keep track of things. I hate the calendar on my stupid phone.

I have never been super vigilant about the details so it’s not a perfect record of my existence but there are a lot of historical tidbits in here.

It was 20 years ago today. My cousin Bari introduced us. We had a family dinner at my Uncle LeRoy’s house when he lived in the house up in the hills. We were going to see The Piano the next day but we didn’t.

Research confirms that the movie came out in November 93 but it won several Oscars in March of 94 so it would make sense that it would be available for us to see. Bob said that Bari cancelled because she had morning sickness. That isn’t my recollection but the math adds up, too Sinead is going to be 20 this September.

Now we’re old married farts. And we’re okay with that.

I was just folding up my pajama pants from the laundry and wow, they look like they should be burned. How do things get so ratty without me noticing? I put them back in the drawer. I can burn them anytime and right now I still want to wear them.

I started working on some photos for a post at the beginning of the week and was interrupted and never got back to it.

I know everyone is frazzled and super busy and no one likes to hear about how someone else is frazzled and super busy but sheesh, I am frazzled and super busy. I feel like I am keeping up with only half of everything and doing it poorly. And when I do finally have time, my brain is tired and doesn’t want to cooperate.

I have been trying to deal with some [boring grown up stuff] and it seems like for every question I ask or phone call I make, I create 10 more questions and 3 more phone calls. I understand why people don’t deal with [boring grown up stuff]. There is no incentive to deal with it other than there may be some time in the future when I will theoretically be glad I dealt with it now instead of filing it away and not thinking about it.

This is my other story about subscribing to the New Yorker. In the back of the magazine there are cute little interesting ads. Sometimes you can’t even tell what the ad is about. I like to check the URLs to see what they are.

There was one ad for buying original art. Oh, I like original art.

I got to the website and there was a button you could click for art work under $25,000. I realized I was not the target audience.

Later I was telling Bob this about this and I told him they had art in a style that we’d seen before in museums.

“You know,” I said, “It’s called … um … it’s called … The Boat Painters.”

He keeled over laughing because (a) he knew exactly what I was talking about and (b) it’s called The Hudson River School.

(If you haven’t heard the story there was another time when I was telling him I’d heard something about a band he liked. I said, “It’s called something something big world.” It was actually called Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe. But he knew what I meant.)