F.Y.I.

Someone told me about a website that lets you opt out of receiving catalogs in the mail. It's www.catalogchoice.org and it has certainly done wonders for my mailbox. Give it a try.

The reason I'm thinking of it is I got Mom home from the hospital yesterday, finally, and she had a bale of catalogs in her mail. Do all older people get so many? I don't know, but I'm online this morning signing her up and getting at least some of them stopped. She's flipping out that she has to use oxygen and drag it along to her bridge games, etc. Right now she's thinking she'll never go anywhere ever again. Drama, much? I know she doesn't feel good and she's intimidated by all the rigmarole, but geez, Mom, never? I know it sounds like I'm not sympathetic, but I really am. I do understand that she's overwhelmed and afraid of breaking it or hurting herself, but I'm worn out and sympathy's a bit thin on the ground today. I'm hoping my brothers will step up and take their turns helping her this weekend. Maybe I'll call them and suggest that.

January 28--Maldives. Like a carpet of limitless blue the water in the infinity pool stretched out across the surface of the ocean and into the sky. The quiet space between one puff of wind and the next, like the earth holding its breath, stretched out. The waves lay down and the satin surface of the water, both fresh and salt, spread out to the limit of imagination. Maren lay in the shade of a white canvas umbrella, stretched out on a teak chaise longue like a vestal sacrifice. A trickle of sweat traced its way down her arm, sending a shiver to her very center. The cessation of the clatter of the palm fronds overhead made the broken glass sound of the ice cubes in her glass seem very loud and the faint music of the bamboo and brass wind chimes on her deck of her cabana soothed her more than the canned music that drifted over the resort beach on cruise ship days. This was better, more relaxing. Trevor was right, rich was better than poor.

It's sunny today although still frigid. Only in my dreams am I lolling on the chaise next to Maren.
--Barbara