2 January 2004
It's just that Grandpa wasn't enunciating, is the thing. He meant to say, "I'm beat into my socks." As in, "I'm really beat, I'm really tired." But it really sounded like he'd turned to my mother and said, "Oh, Debra, I peed in my socks." So Mom and I both whipped our heads around to him: "You did what?" And now we use the expression ourselves. I peed in my socks. I'm tired tiredy tired.
So the plan for the day is probably not the wisest one ever, since it involves playing airport taxi and making a Perkins run at 10:30 at the earliest. But it's a wiser one than not getting to see those people at all, so I'll deal with the tireds gladly.
Then, of course, there's Melvin. Melvin is the name I've given our laundry monster. I don't know why. I was writing to Liz and decided that his name was Melvin. Melvin the Laundry Monster. He's kind of big. I can't decide if he's way too friendly or not friendly enough. But there he is, lurking and chuckling. I have to attack Melvin today, and also we need food. I would not have said we had enough food to feed Tony and Jenny lunch yesterday, but apparently we did. (We have decent amounts of cheese leftover from smorgasbord.) But more than that...not much. Not a heck of a lot. So I need to figure out what I want to cook and when, and then get the stuff for it. Such a thrill, I know. Also, there were a few duplicates and a few things that didn't fit, so I need to do exchanges. I have no idea whether today will be a sane day for exchanges, but I'm going out anyway for groceries and Hallmark cards, and a few of the exchange places are closer than the grocery store or the Hallmark, so I might as well give it a shot. Right? Maybe?
Maybe 80% of the time we drive past a frozen or freezing body of water, I think of Lake Phalen and the ice blocks for the Winter Carnival, and I think freezing thoughts at it. There are lots of bodies of water around here. It's lots of freezing thoughts. But the Winter Carnival...I'm really excited. I'm like a little kid about it. It's going to be wonderful, and I have great faith in Lake Phalen, that it'll freeze as deep as it needs to so we don't have to have that nasty Detroit Lakes ice trucked in. Lake Phalen appears to be a deep and chilly Tinkerbell in the back of my brain.
Other than that, I don't know. Go read the Hannah's story. It's a Tam Lin story, and I don't like horseracing, but I like this story. (I still hear the slap of the puck and the ice noises in Tam Lin, myself, but I'm glad not everybody does, or we'd be out a story. Also, I think I hear ice noises too many places, maybe. Like the deep and chilly Tinkerbell, but different, more scraping and scratching and that noise I don't know how to transliterate.)
So I'll be catching up, is the plan. The idea. Maybe not catching up on sleep, but on other things, and then maybe on sleep tomorrow. Heh. If I don't come up with anything else that needs doing.
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