I have to work today too and, today, I mind. There's just something about having to work on Saturday that feels extra. It's gray and cool today so I'm sure I won't be busy which will make the hours drag, and it's Saturday, I want to not have to work. (Think of your paycheck, your paycheck) Mr. Boss did come and relieve me at 5 last night so I could go and be at knitting all evening. Miss Clara came, well, her mom brought her so we all got to hold her seven-week-old self. She was lovely, just like a snuggly warm corsage. I confess I tried to hog her but I make no excuses, I dearly love to hold babies, any babies. Sleepy babies, stranger's babies, crying babies, smelly babies, just give me a baby and I'm happy. I'd have had a lot more babies if Durwood hadn't been the voice of reason. Do you know of any spare babies that need holding, even fussy ones? I'm good at it. I'll be stopping at Mom's after work to take out her trash and probably fill her feeders for her. She stopped at the dive shop yesterday to get some papers copied. They sure make her jump through hoops to get a little assistance. It's confusing. She's getting all excited to go to her 65th class reunion next month in Evansville, IN. DS has volunteered to drive her so she's trying to coordinate all the friends that she's in touch with to get their kids or grandkids to get them down there too. I hope they all come. I suspect DS will eat Marx's or Wolf's barbecue every day while he's there. They'd just better bring home some for the rest of us.
September 16--Otto Prutscher, Plant Stand. Lila stood staring at the plant stand in the back of The Junque Shoppe in downtown, Carmi, Illinois. She and Atcheson has been driving through when she saw the sign and insisted that they stop. Atch was used to Lila's sudden shouts to "stop the car, stop!" so his heart rate and blood pressure didn't spike with panic anymore. He didn't look wildly around to see if he'd run over someone, or if a volcano had erupted beside them, or if a satellite was about to fall from the sky and squash them flat. Now he just pulled over as soon as he safely could and resigned himself to wade through whatever roadside amazement had caught his Lila's eye. Today it was the sign for The Junque Shoppe. "It's too too camp and middle America, Atch. I need to see it." Her fingers clutched the dashboard as she leaned forward in her seat. Now, a half hour later, she stood in front of a hideous mid-century modern plant stand. "You know, Atch, if we put little foam pads in the planter boxes it'd be perfect for Mister Wiggins and the Calico Harem." He rolled his eyes. Those cats were worse than kids. At least children went to school and then grew up and went away. That damned Mister Wiggins and his flea-bitten harem of consorts were forever.
Time for Cheerios, prunes, and the crossword puzzle. Don't you wish you were me?