The snow out at Barkhausen did yesterday anyway. It was not quiet under our snowshoes, that's for sure. KW had to volunteer at the hospital gift shop until 3 o'clock so it was about 3:45 when we strapped on our snowshoes and took off. There's a nice wide trail with 2 ski paths and plenty of room for snowshoeing on either side and the woods were still and the sun was shining and I made it much farther than I thought I would. Not that I'm not a little creaky today but getting out there and getting all sweaty for an hour was totally worth it. Why don't I remember how great I feel when I exercise when I'm sitting on my butt deciding not to walk/exercycle/Wii? Huh? Will I ever get it through my thick head that my arthritic knees feel better if I keep moving? I fell asleep like a baby and today I feel great. I felt great last night too. (You like this, Barbara, get off your butt.) So I did Wii yoga for a half an hour this morning. One day at a time...
When Durwood closed the garage door on Saturday night as we were leaving to go to Family Supper I heard an unholy crashing sound from inside the garage. Uh-oh. I motioned for him to raise the garage door and it wouldn't. Uh-oh. That meant a broken spring on the door. Dang it. When we got home I checked out there and the end of the cable that goes around the pulley came out of its crimp. That's better (and hopefully cheaper) than getting a spring replaced. Happily our driveway is long enough to park both vehicles without the end one sticking out into the street. Whew. I was feeling pretty cranky about it but when I called the garage door guy this morning he said that his scheduler wasn't in because her husband had a massive heart attack over the weekend (he's okay) so he couldn't give me a time, the repairman will call before he comes. Now I feel just fine about having a broken garage door cable. Perspective is everything.
March 4--Greek, Plaque with the Return of Odysseus. "Honey, I'm home." "I have a headache." "Who is that guy?" That's what went through Sarah's mind when she looked at the clay plaque. Would this museum tour ever end? When Neal had asked her if she liked museums she had said yes. She did like them, she wasn't obsessed with them. Neal was obsessed. He had to read every little label and then analyze and discuss every scrap and crumble. She tried to wander away but he would pinch her sleeve to keep her next to him. She wondered if they served wine in the snack bar.
Okay, then. It seems like time for breakfast and newspaper reading, followed by a shower, hair combing, dressing, and work going to. I don't have to be at work for two hours but I like to take my time getting ready and maybe the garage door guy will come before I leave. Probably not but wouldn't that be nice? I'll move Durwood's van away from the garage door before I go so that he doesn't have to get out into the single digits to do it. I'm nice that way, plus he's napping. He's a real champion napper, I'm not a napper. Everyone has their gift.