Financially Responsible

At least that's the hope when we meet with our broker in about an hour.  I'd leave Durwood to go alone since I'm not very interested in all that investment talk but he insists that I go too since he's trying to teach me to be more careful with money.  I think I'm doing an okay job; I save money for things I want to do instead of just expecting it to magically be there when it's time to pay and I rarely use a credit card, really only to fill up the car with gas... oh, and when I order things online, but I'm trying to cut back on that, except now's the ramp-up to Christmas and I've already ordered the first gift, so maybe I'll cut back later, yeah, that's what I'll do, cut back later.  Works for me.  Anyway, the appointment meant that I hopped (well, stepped carefully) into the shower almost the moment I got out of bed, got dressed, organized lunches, ate a little breakfast, and now I'm blogging.  In about half an hour, Durwood and I will jump into separate cars (I have to be at work at 10 AM) and zoom off to our appointment.  I hope I learn something and just don't sit and smile in confusion.  When we're there I usually try to ask one insightful-sounding question just so everybody knows I'm awake.

Here's the pretty hankie that was my game prize at the shower on Saturday.  Don't you love it?

I'm following a very strict diet this week to kind of drop-kick myself back onto eating right so I spent yesterday cranky (part of me wants to eat right but another part of me resents the hell out of it, guess which one usually wins).  I made a vat of cabbage soup then cut up lots of fruit for nibbling on through the day.  That meant I was in Walmart's food dept. in the afternoon, along with the population of Rhode Island. Man, it was a mob scene in there but I managed to elbow my way around to what I wanted to buy.  I was glad to get home but all that store walking and soup making sure made my back ache.  Of course I also had stripped the bed when I got up yesterday, or rather when Durwood finally got up, so I also had to put fresh sheets on the bed before I turned in.  I took my cranky self to bed a bit early last night to give Durwood a little peace plus I was bushed.  This early dark (sunset was about 4:30, for god's sake, but pretty. See?) sure makes the evenings long.

November 4--Pierre-Francois-Leonard Fontaine, Sketchbook of a Journey to the Chateau d'Eu.  Maeve thought the row of trees looked like sentinels as they emerged from the fog.  Turning on the high beams only reflected the light back into her eyes so she kept them on low and crept slowly up the long drive.  Why did Mme. March have to live so far out of town?  The woman could have lived in a chic city apartment near her favorite shops and restaurants, and where Maeve could arrive by taxi or Metro.  No, she lived out here in nowheres-ville, down this unlit drive in a house that was probably haunted.  She felt the car wheels bump over something and heard an unearthly howl that made her go cold.  Had she run over something?  A cat?

Don't ask, I don't know what comes next, I was cranky and tired so I wrote and went to sleep.  Now it's time to put on my sweater and shoes, comb my hair, and go off to learn about investments.  Oh goodie.
--Barbara