30 November 2003
All right. The grands and Onie got on the road early this morning, around 7:30, and the folks followed them at around 10:00. And I think I've found all the things they left accidentally -- my mom's scarf, for example, was obviously not a gift left as a surprise, but rather a mistake. Although in Nebraska scarves are accessories. I used to think they were accessories myself. Then I moved home. Nuh-uh. Necessary garments.
I don't have a lot of structure in the rest of my day. A to-do list, yes, but none of it has to be to-done to-day specifically. Err. Except maybe some laundry.
Talked to Michelle for awhile this afternoon, mostly about other people, friends and family; now I feel like I should call her back and talk about ourselves instead. I've also read some in The Porcelain Dove, which I'm enjoying. I think the fantasy aspect of it wouldn't be overt enough for some people's tastes, but I think Sherman does a fairly good job of teasing the reader along with references to what we know must be coming. (A reasonable use of a framing device! Glory be!)
See, if this online journal stuff was useful, you all would give me advice on what we should have for dinner. Hmm...what else should it be good for? (Journal, not dinner; I know what dinner is good for.) Well, giving me book recommendations, but that mostly works; through other people's journals, I grant you. I'll have to think further on it.
It is windy here, and we have a backyard full of shaking trees. I love it, love it, love it.
All right. Off to handle laundry and figure out how to feed ourselves and do the "Mark is home for good" dance. He was home for good before, but I was having a hard time making it feel real, since he'd been around for weekends before. But really and for true he is. And so we dance.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.