I Have an Appointment

I stayed on hold for 15 minutes (only) and got an appointment on February 10 for my first COVID vaccination.  Hooray!  On Monday they said that people in my age group could get appointments so I dedicated my morning to getting one.  First I tried the online method but when I finally got on the site I couldn't find where to sign up.  Then I got the hotline number and started dialing.  It only took 44 tries and 15 minutes on hold to speak to a live human lady who very kindly made the appointment for me.  I don't like shots (who does?) but I'll be happy to get that one, and then the second one, if it means being a little less afraid.

It was windy and cold and cloudy today but I went out and filled the feeders in the afternoon.  I waited until late enough that the squirrels had already left for the day so the peanuts and suet pellets were unmolested.

Sundown was glorious today.  One of my knitting friends was stuck in traffic but he called to tell me that he turned on the sunset for me.  Ha!  I had already taken this picture of the sky.

 

I started January Preemie Hat #4 this afternoon and realized that even though this yarn is marked the same as the yarn I used yesterday it is thinner and therefore takes more knitting to get as far.  Supposedly there's a standard but I think that yarn makers have lots of flexibility in marking their yarn.  A little consistency would be nice.

Before I got online and on the phone this morning I put together a slow cooker of Lentil Soup that cooked all day and perfumed the air.  I had some for supper; it's good.  Perfect for cold, windy days.

 

 

20 January--Barbara Malcolm, The Seaview 

I sent Will and Elizabeth off to their room to unpack and clean up before supper while I went into my room for a shower and a little time to think before we met again to go to the Barrel Stave for supper.  I knew Mrs. O’Neill would have fresh local fish for supper and that Elizabeth and she would get along like old friends.  I poured myself a little glass of fruit juice and rum first and picked up my phone.  On a hunch I dialed Marie, listened to it ring at her house in Kentucky, at least I hoped it was ringing at her house.  I was relieved when she answered. 

“Oh good, you are home, aren’t you?”  I could hear the strain in my voice. 

Her voice was bright.  “Yep, here I am at home.”  Oh mercy, I knew what came next.  “Why wouldn’t I be?”  I recognized that ‘little innocent me’ tone of voice. 

I firmed up my own tone of voice.  “Okay, Marie, the game is up.  What time do you arrive, and what day?” 

There was a longish pause and then she said, “You’re mad.” 

It took a lot of self-control not to shout but shouting had never done anything but make Marie cry.  “You bet I’m mad.  Will shows up here unannounced expecting that I’ve been lying to you all, that I have a room for them to stay in, in a hotel with running water and electricity and everything.  Well, I wasn’t lying and I don’t have a room for them to stay in.”  When I paused I realized that I was holding the phone so tightly that it was in danger of breaking and that I was panting like I had just chased a bus down the block. 

“Mom?” Marie was saying, “Mom, calm down.” 

That was totally the wrong thing for her to say.  “Calm down?  Calm down!  Your buttinski brother and his blameless wife barged into the Seaview’s kitchen when I was playing tonsil hockey with Iggy, thinking of having my way with him right there and then.  Embarrassed?  Not so much.”  I laughed a harsh laugh not too far from the laugh an old movie villain would give.  Then I got control of myself.  “So, Marie, what time does your plane arrive, or are you in Marigot waiting for the last ferry to Blowing Point?”

 “Mom!” 

“Don’t try to snow or mollify me, Marie, just tell me the truth.  When do you get here?”  I heard the sound of cars and lilting Caribbean accents through the phone. 

She sighed.  “I’ll be on the next ferry.  Sorry, Mom, Will made me promise not to tell.” 

I had just about had it with these adults who were acting a lot more like children these days. 

“And you always do what Will tells you to, right?”  I drained my drink and set the empty glass in the sink.  “Okay, I’ll shower and we will be at the ferry dock to pick you up…”  I checked the time, “in just about an hour.  We can have supper at the Ferryboat Inn since it is right there and I am sure you are hungry.” 

Her voice was very small.  “Okay, Mom, see you soon.”

 

Today's toss was an old book that I've read and won't reread.

Writing today was hard.  It said to write a eulogy of someone you admire.  A eulogy.  Ugh.  Not very cheerful on a dreary day.

--Barbara