No LC For Me Yesterday After All

I got the dreaded phone call around noon.  The Nana was free so she was getting a turn to watch LC during band practice.  *sigh*  I have to say that my day got quite a bit grayer just then but I managed to pull myself out of the doldrums and soldier on, not happy, but on.  I'm planning to call Mama today and schedule a visit on my way home from work later or tomorrow or Saturday or Sunday--or maybe ALL of them.  I hesitate to call because I don't want to interrupt a hard-won nap but I need to get over it and just call.  It's only fair that Nana gets a turn, right?  The selfish part of me says "maybe" but I need to be a grownup even when I don't want to.  (don't want to! don't want to! don't want to! [if I wasn't so creaky today I might just fling myself onto the carpet and drum my heels.  not really... but sorta])  In three more Tuesdays I'll have LC all to myself every Tuesday when Mama goes back to work so the LC-drought will be over for good, or at least until she's potty trained and can go to the day care at St. Nubs or until I'm worn out, whichever comes first.  I realized a while back that in reality I want to see the whole little family, Daddy & Mama & LC, when I go.  I also realized that Durwood should cook something and we should invite them over for a meal, we got out of the "family supper" habit sometime last year and never really started up again.  I'll leave Durwood a note; maybe we can arrange something for next week or weekend.  Seems like time for a nice pot of chicken stew.


I did a little knitting at work yesterday but I think I need to redo the Ugly Bunny's face, the X eye and nose are too small, and I got a few rounds added to the March Men's Chemo Hat #1.  I had a couple customers and one of them had made a stop at a "watering hole" to load up on, um, antifreeze.  He didn't seem too impaired so maybe it was just a maintenance dose but, whew, he sure smelled boozy.

Oh, I hear a bluejay.  The peanuts are for the bluejays.  One of the squirrels has learned that it can leap from the ground onto the peanut feeder so Durwood's unlimbered his BB gun to remind the little urban scourge of its manners.  He doesn't hurt them, just pings them in the hinder to scootch them along their way.

February 27--Egypt, Sculptor's Model/Votive, Female Head.  Amy felt like she'd never be able to straighten up again.  She'd been hunched over her square meter of desert floor for hours.  Most of archaeology was drudgery--boring, repetitive work, like sifting and scraping away every square meter at the dig site.  She had found a few beads and pieces of broken pottery in her last patch but in this one all she had found was sand, sand, and more sand.  The day had been especially hot and airless under the sun shade and she was just about to call it a day when she noticed the stone face staring up at her from the bottom of the pit she had dug.

Today the temperature is supposed to drop from a high (just before dawn) of 9 degrees.  We're at -2 already and the wind is blowing a gale.  I live in the North Pole.  Maybe I'll light a fire in the middle of the dive shop, rub two tanks together or something.  Maybe today I will turn on the heater under the desk.  Maybe I'll throw a lap robe in my knitting bag to block the breeze that filters through the uninsulated cement block wall.  You can be sure I won't forget to put in my toe warmer sticky packs; I wish I had hand and back and ear and boob warmer packets too.  Mercy, it's cold, and I used up the hot cocoa mix last night.  Better make more.  Right now.
--Barbara