Ephemera

 

One of my two favorite bruddies is coming back to Maine TONIGHT.

Mid-day work brain results in things like this.

In further avocado news, why would you name a mattress AVOCADO? The implications are just...weird. Squishy like guacamole, or hard as a rock like a grocery store avocado?

I would like more reassurance like this in general.

See you tomorrow!

Blurry and bleary

Did I mention that Gus has taken to occasionally howling like a wolf when he hears a siren? The siren has to be really close, like speeding by our pulled-over car or right past our open dining room window. It's adorable, and I always tell him, "Good dog, Gus!" Every once in a while I will hear a more distant siren, and I will howl like a wolf to try and get him going. It never works, but it does make him whip his head around and look at me the way I'd look at him if he suddenly said, "Say, I'd love to have one of those ice cubes, while you have the freezer door open!" Like, "She speaks my language. Why does she usually pretend not to??" When Adam was here last month, he did it once too, and again, Gus examined his face intently: This human too?

THANKS FOR THE ICE CUBE HUMAN.

It has been not-even-that-hot-but-hot-for-Maine lately, like 85ish, the last several days, and man, I have been sweating like a...whatever. Big salty drops of sweat just cascading down my face. I feel like some delicate alpine flower or something--so hot. (Is this hormonal? Or something? Some hideous mid-40s thing?) I mean, I've been unable to accomplish much of anything, just moving in slow motion as I rinse out a cup and a bowl and then think, "There. My work is done for the day," before collapsing in front of a fan with a glass of iced coffee. The other day I made an upsetting confession to Mark: "You know how everyone says they hate air conditioning? Because it's so artificial and blah blah blah? I LOVE AIR CONDITIONING SO MUCH. The colder the better." Okay, today's much cooler, and I've been able to paint a fourth layer of tung oil stuff on the counter and wash several loads of laundry and walk Gus and eat breakfast with Isaac and do the dishes and contemplate some billable work and write some emails.

My blurry neighborhood.

I felt so lonely walking last night and looking at the blue moon and missing Mark (who's in Kansas for a few days for our nephew James's wedding) and my bruddies and some other special people. It made me think about how brave Zoë is to go on her own to these places she goes, and to be committed to what she's doing there even if she has to be without people who know her and hug her and love her so much. I'm so much more of a wimp in just about every single way than that girl is.

My bruddie and me.

2013

Once again, I feel ready to shake the dust of this year off my heels and leap into the next one. My ridiculous magical thinking has me convinced that 2014 will be it, as far as happiness and health and luck and (not to put too fine a point on it, but) money. Because 14 is, and always has been, my official lucky number.

Still, every single day of this past year brought me a beautiful sky, a beloved family, funny and supportive friends, great movies and telervision and books and food and games, and sweet furry pals too.

Christmas, by the way, was a smashing success, a swirl of sweeties and feasting and baking and presents and snow and dogs, missing only our girl to make it just about perfect.

Okay, 2014, let's do this.