Up With the Birds

and in the dark. This encapsulates my anti-DST feelings. In one swell foop we went from getting up to dawn's early light and birdies chirping happily to awaking to nearly full dark and only a few brave birds peeping. Like I said, it makes it hard to roust myself out. But I managed today, and the Wii Fit says I lost weight, more than a pound, yesterday. Now I know that weighing every day isn't a true measure of weight lost, gained, or maintained but, kids, I gotta tell you, having that little tray-guy jump around and think I've lost weight MAKES MY DAY. Now, I'm glad that I got up early so I can crow a bit here and then pick Porter up and go walking with Skully and RainMag (Maggie rides the short bus; she's a little ;"special," too cute for words and friendly as all get out, but not the brightest bulb in the marquee) along the trail. That makes my whole day better and brighter. I'm determined to do everything I can to drag myself out of the doldrums. I know that missing Mom isn't going to go away anytime soon, if ever, but I need to stop letting it color my whole life. I'm too happy to be so sad for so long. Durwood suggested that we take a long weekend in the latter half of April and go down to visit DD & DIL2. There should be horse racing, either thoroughbred or harness (we're hoping for harness) so that'll be a fun thing to do and we want to investigate the barbecue at a country shack joint we ran across when we were down there for their wedding last spring and got lost. It was called Bubba's or something like that, it looked like it was made from scrap lumber, and it had four or five pickups (with gun racks) in the parking lot. It's bound to have great food, right? We both need to get out of Dodge for a few days. I'm going to meet Lala in Sheboygan on Holy Thursday and spend a few days writing and walking and goofing off and I CAN'T WAIT. We started doing this a few years ago and it has assumed legendary proportions in both our minds and psyches. Last year was the year of the Supermoon which was totally awesome, so now we plan to be there for a full moon. It won't be as super as the Supermoon but we'll sit on the chilly and windy shore watching it rise out of Lake Michigan and it'll be freaking fabulous. This year we'll bring blankets to stay warm in; we froze last year. Durwood doesn't have a boon companion like Lala so he doesn't get to run away and play so I make the sacrifice and go with him, like our UP tour last Fall. I'm a good wife.

March 12--Iran or Mesopotamia, Head of a Ruler. Gee stumbled back. The empty eye sockets in the verdigris head made her breath catch in her throat. She removed the rest of the packing in the crate noticing that some of it was stained. Reaching into the box on the shelf behind her work table she pulled on latex gloves, the sharp familiar smell of the rubber filler her nostrils. The copper alloy head that she lifted carefully out of the packing had the aroma of the desert clinging to it even though it had spent the last fifty years in a university museum in Des Moines. As she turned to place the head in the padded tray she felt something move. "Oh hell," she said under her breath, "I hope it hasn't broken in shipping." She leaned over and shone a penlight into one of the empty eye sockets. She gasped and dripped the light when it revealed a severed finger, a fresh one, inside.

Ew. That's all I have to say--ew. Gotta go eat my Cheerios and prunes so I can play with Porter, Maggie, and Skully for a while. And take Maggie's picture, I don't have any to share with you and that's an oversight I can rectify. Then I'm making veggie soup. I love soup. You love soup too?
--Barbara