peep

That's all I can muster today. Goodnight.

lasagna and the movies

On this chilly January day, the blast furnace whirred almost constantly, keeping The Warehouse toasty (if moreso in some spots than others). Family visited, and we watched movies on the 10' "screen," ate homemade lasagna, chatted, and played with the cats. Now, everyone has headed home, Ted is sleeping, the blast furnace is off (for now), and I still with chilly calves at the desk -- bemoaning the eventual loss of the Christmas tree which we have still not dismantled, and which occupies a fantastic gap in the room. Tomorrow, I go back to chores. I may wait until the last minute (Tuesday night) to pack up ornaments and twinkle lights, though.

numbers

Maybe the numbering system should have stayed. Maybe it's what provided inspiration for daily blogging after nearly a year of radio silence. How is that possible? It was simply a way to lazily announce that I might be making a return to blogging. Life couldn't possibly be so twisted as to allow something so nonchalant to have such power. Nah. Just postulating about nothing to fill space. What will Day 9 hold?

day 7: time to stop counting

It's been a wild and woolly day. The last couple hours were occupied on a very important phone call, which only ended because my cell battery experienced massive failure (sorry Rina!). I have no new picture to share, no real idea of even the fluffiest of topics to discuss, and no time to flesh them out anyway. Just a minor decision. Today will be the last day I number the blog titles. After one week, I'm feeling more confident that they'll be more regular than last year.

And with that, an easy distraction and fare-thee-well.



Good night.

day 6: just a few clicks more

Perhaps you've heard of The Hunger Site. The premise is simple: click a button on the site and be re-directed to a page where you view sponsors who fund charitable donations to organizations that feed the hungry. You don't ever have to buy anything from the sponsors or the online store. Of course, you might be tempted and someday purchase something, which is why the sponsors pay the money. But if you can resist the urge to shop, you can essentially make a small, daily donation to a worthy cause for free.

Apparently, a fair number of folks do this. The Hunger Site reports that visitor clicks totaled 65.7 million cups of food donated in 2009. Another page with exactly the same format, The Animal Rescue Site, gathered enough clicks to donate 92 million bowls of pet food to shelters.

But there are four other sites all affiliated that don't seem to get the same level of attention. Although it's certainly great that The Breast Cancer Site was able to help nearly 7,000 women to get mammograms (and admittedly, it takes more clicks to get a mammogram than a cup of food), it seems to me that number should be higher. The same is true for the Child Health, Literacy, and Rainforest sites. If everyone who clicked on The Hunger Site and/or The Animal Rescue Site could take a bit longer and click the other sites, as well, I think those numbers could really swell.

And it's not difficult. There is a tab for each of the six sites at the tops of them all.


Just click a few more times. Every little bit helps!

day 5: frustration, then relief!

The slow but steady degradation of my heretofore stalwart digital camera my have reached its nadir; a hair's-breadth before its inevitable demise. It's been through a lot. I've not been gentle with it, and so I should be grateful for its six-ish years of mostly reliable service.

I like taking pictures. Occasionally, I'll even take one I think is actually quite good -- though I appreciate that, more than talent, it's usually a combination of fortunate timing, luck, and sheer quantity (take a thousand pictures, and one is bound to be decent). It has been with some disappointment that I realized my camera is dying. An emotion compounded by the fact that I don't really have the money to replace it at this point.

But tonight, while contemplating a blog post topic and a picture I might take for it, it dawned on me! The various gift cards and cash I received at Christmas can be combined so that I can purchase a new camera! To paraphrase Uma Thurman in "The Truth About Cats and Dogs," it won't be a Ferrari, but it should be a Toyota. Now, off to do some research.

day 4: fishes and birthday wishes

Ted and I went to Jumpin' Jay's for my birthday dinner tonight. This is our favorite restaurant in town. Would that we were more affluent that we could partake on occasions other than just special ones.

The food is so scrumptious! Although I missed the Wild Mushroom Risotto that's been off the menu for about a year now (we keep hoping it will come back), the roasted pear and radicchio salad did not disappoint. It never does. And pan-seared yellowfin tuna (rare) in Mandarin sesame glaze with wasabi aioli is divine with garlic mashed potatoes and shredded beets. A glass of amazingly smooth 2008 La Crema Pinot Noir was convincing enough to require a second.

Ted was very happy with both soup and entree of scallops. He wants to know if I'm willing to have multiple birthdays every year.

My broken camera made this shot challenging -- especially in the bitter breeze. But it was a must to get a picture of Jumpin' Jay's fish, complete with scarf and snow.

day 3: part 2

Milo was feeling a bit chilly. He plopped down directly between me and the keyboard, leaned his whole body up against my chest, and I wrapped a blanket around the both of us. He promptly rested his head on my arm and went to sleep. This was not a convenient position for me to do much of anything. But he was so snuggly, I couldn't help myself. It was not easy taking a picture of us (Ted was asleep). This was the best I could do with my broken camera and my arm wrapped up in blanket.

By the way, as of this entry, I've now officially posted twice as many blog entries in 2010 as I did in all of 2009. Hmm.

day 3: safe a bit longer

I didn't take down the Christmas tree today, for several reasons. When I was a kid, my parents would keep it up through my sister's and my birthdays. Why stop that tradition now? Plus, we can't put it curbside for another couple days. Why have it sitting inside undecorated? Plus, Epiphany's not until the 6th. Why not go with the 12 Days of Christmas vibe? Any more excuses needed? I think not. I like the tree, and dread the dark hole its absence will create. So, I'm clinging. I'm allowed.

My long list of chores and errands was only moderately decreased. Translation: I had a lazy holiday weekend. Ted & I went out to a movie and dinner yesterday. It felt decadent -- even though it was a matinée, and we were out of the Olive Garden before 5:00pm. It's rare we are able to have such a date. We watched another movie when we got home. The constant, if not epic, snow was conducive to such a film marathon.

Today, Ted's putting in an open-to-close shift. A mere 15 hours. He'll switch off the lights in 6 minutes and be home in 7 -- maybe 8, if the cars don't let him cross the street. Hopefully, it won't be too slippery for him. Did I mention he got ski poles for Christmas? To add stability on his commute. They pair nicely with his crampons.

day 2: don't count on it

Why am I back here? Nothing to report but snowfall and a raging case of the sniffles. Three very snuggly cats and one who refused to join the warmth. A wheat bagel and orange juice for breakfast. The twinkle of Christmas lights, as I refuse to dismantle the tree just yet. Chores and errands to be done, though at the moment, more interest in random online rambling and a 12:50pm showing of "Sherlock Holmes" (we all know how I feel about Robert Downey, Jr.). Until then, I must resist the urge to watch the last two episodes of The Vicar of Dibley, and be minimally productive before brushing off the car and driving to the theater.

day 1

A blog entry for the first day of 2010. Resolutions? Year-end lists? Plans for a new life with new adventures and new momentum? Commitments to write more? Nah. Just a blip. Perhaps to be followed with more blips. A few more sentences, and it will have exceeded everything written here for 2009. But not tonight.

Painting is "Drilling For Honey" by Shelton Walsmith. Isn't it lovely? Happy New Year.

boo

Nearly a year. And why now? Because tonight, I experienced the famous straw as never before. Tonight, my favorite lamp was the straw, and I was the camel's back: We broke nearly simultaneously.

There was no reason for me to react the way I did. As disappointed as I was that the lamp broke, and as frustrated as I was about the circumstances that led it to break, and as panicked as I was about all the broken glass, none of those things -- even in concert with each other -- was enough to prompt the full-on tantrum/meltdown that ensued.

Ted was bewildered, concerned... a bit scared. The wife he's known for so many years usually maintains a freakishly even keel. And tonight, she suddenly hit rough seas and near-about capsized!

He tried to calm me down, but was unsuccessful. The cats rapidly made themselves scarce, which was good because they avoided the millions of shards. And in the middle of this wildly disproportionate fit, I found myself wondering why I was pitching it, why there was no OFF button. And so I, too, was something of a witness to the whole episode.

Didn't last long -- a couple minutes, after which, I regained my composure and set about to vacuuming up the bits too small to pick up by hand (Ted got all the big pieces while I was morphing into a crazed puddle). It was an arduous task to be sure. The lamp had truly shattered.

It's done now, and I've since found several places online where I can get replacement shades. So now life goes on. Right? I've folded laundry, chatted about my day with my husband, checked email, read the news, and written a blog entry. Is it necessary for me to analyze all the pieces of straw in my life? Is that the only way to keep my back from breaking again the next time a fly buzzes by and inadvertently adds a speck of straw dust? There are many pieces of straw these days. And my back hurts enough that it's tempting to openly list and/or complain about them (though I might contend that the list itself would be a complaint). This strays way outside my usual optimism, and although it may explain tonight, I know better than to go there. It's time to climb up the slope, not slide down it.

So, let's talk about something more upbeat. Holidays! Here's a great Thanksgiving poem:

"Yam" by Bruce Guernsey

The potato that ate all its carrots,
can see in the dark like a mole,

its eyes the scars

from centuries of shovels, tines.

May spelled backwards

because it hates the light,

pawing its way, paddling along,

there in the catacombs.

Love it. And then there's Christmas.



I'm not ready for Christmas in any way. Some gifts have been procured. But when my hard drive crashed, it ate my list. That means I have to start from scratch as to who gets what and how much budget is left for everyone, and therefore how much more shopping needs to be done. I'm braving Black Friday with my sister and my Christmas Club money. But I'm not appropriately prepared for it. At a time in the process when I'm typically done or close to it. And I'm still trying to imagine Christmas without my own personal Santa -- Dad.

Oops. Just slipped down a bit. I should call it a night, an entry, a year, and get some sleep. Maybe I'll blog again next August.