Tidbits

I forgot to mention this from about a week ago. We stayed at a hotel in town for a couple of days during the worst of the heat wave, and while we were there, we did some lovely relaxing in the pool. At one point, I had to go out to the hotel lobby from the pool to ask the desk clerk something, and I didn’t feel comfortable doing it in my swimming suit…so I pulled on Sam’s shirt. And it fit. I can’t decide whether I’m more boggled about being small enough to wear me son’s clothing, or to have a son large enough to share his shirts with me. Really, I’d like to go back to not knowing.

Eric’s on his way to Mexico. I’d rather not know about that, either. Mexico is not a nice place to be these days, at least according to news reports, and it’s scary to send one’s spouse to places that require armed escorts as a matter of daily business.

Yesterday wasn’t fun. I had a bunch of mundane, unpleasant tasks to do about the house, and then in the course of peeling a butternut squash for my dinner (while trying hard to ignore the scent of beer-braised short ribs in the crockpot; honestly, vegetarian cooking is delicious, but it just doesn’t have the same olfactory dazzle that slow-cooking meat does, in my opinion), I managed to also peel the tip of my ring finger. Cue bleeding and pain. Cue me, in a brilliant show of calm mind and stalwart will, nearly losing consciousness and winding up flat on my back on the floor while the room spun and turned grey. On the bright side, my sons proved that in situations such as this, they are quite capable of…shooting me with a potato gun and putting me on the phone with a political pollster who happened to call at that moment. (“Mom, it’s Shawn.” “Shawn who?” “I don’t know…”)

So that was delightful.

Sixty-six days until Haunted Hustle. I did 9 miles this morning that would have been more pleasant, probably, without all the wine that didn’t quite save last evening for me, but at least it wasn’t hot. I only looked a little like my bladder had failed by the time I finished.