Yet Another Dreary Day

But there's a bright spot on my horizon--I don't have to work again until Monday, I have 3 glorious days off with no real obligations. Ahhh. My walking partner, Dusty, has the swine flu (ugh) so instead of walking along the river or in the mall, I think I'll just work out in the living room with my Wii Fit tomorrow morning so I don't have to get dressed. Then I can stay in my soft clothes and loll on the couch watching movies and knitting. I might have to relocate my knitting to a laundromat since our dryer's down until next week when its new motor arrives. I can knit while the clothes dry, I'm pretty sure of it. Or maybe I'll take my Alphasmart and see what the spies are up to. I'll be happy to get them off the deserted island where their boat broke down and back on the bigger island where trouble can find them.

October 22--Aztec Calendar. Tally's feet stopped running at the very edge of the rug in Nana Maureen's living room. She had always been afraid of the rug, the faces with their gaping mouths seeming ready to gobble up children's toes. Now that she was nine years old, Tally felt like only babies were silly enough to be afraid of rugs. Nana kept the blinds drawn so that sunlight wouldn't fade the colors in the rug. She said it came from South America. Uncle Hank said that the people who made the rug ate their neighbors' hearts while they were still beating. Tally was glad they didn't live next door to her. "It's a calendar." Nana's voice came out of the depths of the dark green wing chair beside the cold fireplace. "A calendar?" Tally said. "Where are the dates in boxes?" Nana chuckled. "That's a good question, but this calendar talks about the weather and crops and animals." She slid her feet off the footstool and leaned toward her granddaughter. "Turn on the lamps, Tally, and see if you can figure out some of it." That afternoon Tally and Nana puzzled over the images on the rug. By the time Mom called them for supper there were volumes of the encyclopedia and thick history and anthropology books strewn across the room, and Nana was teaching Tally how to take notes and make sketches of her subjects. Tally lay in her bed under the eaves that night grateful to be a part of a family of curious and scientific women.

Ah, Tally. I do like her.
--Barbara