In Which Our Heroine Resurfaces

21 June 2004

(Written yesterday....)

The noise my computer is making makes me very glad I have a new computer coming. Every single morning now. Dang, I'm glad we've backed up recently.

I didn't mean to skip a day's entry yesterday. Sometimes these things happen. Sorry.

Mark got in a little early, and just as I walked up to the area where he was to come through the security perimeter, he was coming down the stairs of it. Perfect timing. I brought him home and put him to bed, poor bleary-eyed boy that he was. I said to him later in the day, "You smell tired," and he gave me kind of a funny look which I think was meant to indicate that tired is not a smell. (But it is. Particularly with a spousal unit whose smell you know really, really well.)

Kev and I went to Byerly's, which he appeared to really enjoy, and to Lock and Dam Number One on the Mississippi. I don't think I'd ever been to Lock and Dam Number One. I liked it a lot. It had dragonflies on the path down, and all sorts of gears and whatnot, and a boat came along and needed to be lifted up the lock while we were there. The river, as I said when we went to the Falls, is high, washing over things that looked like they're usually islands.

We couldn't find the new museum. I think they moved it to some other mill city for the day.

C.J.'s grandfather died yesterday. No one expected him to go this soon. I told him we could listen or provide a distraction or whatever else he likes. He is opting for the distraction for now. I understand this feeling quite well of late. We'll be as distracting as we can this evening.

We have something eerily like a plan for today, involving Cuban food and later cooking and possibly a cuppa in the middle, and possibly a few more exciting things if we find the time for them.


Well, that was a perfectly reasonable set of things to have written yesterday. I have no idea why I didn't post it as a journal entry. I got to doing stuff, is the thing. Doing stuff is my downfall. That and thinking of stuff and being with people. Oh, and reading things. If it wasn't for those things, this journal would have much longer entries.

You wouldn't want to see them, but they'd be longer.

I'm pretty tired lately -- I've been sleeping hard, the kind of sleep where you drool without waking yourself, sleep on your arm until it falls asleep without waking yourself, could listen to (or possibly play in) a brass band without waking yourself. I'm going to catch up on a few journals and a few e-mails and then go downstairs and try to watch the commercial space launch. I have no idea what we're doing today -- or rather, I have a series of ideas and no idea which of them will be open and sound appealing to us. I'm going to try to find out while I'm the only one up, so that I can present options.

Back to Novel Gazing.

And the main page.

Or the last entry.

Or the next one.

Or even send me email.