|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Monday, Labor Day September 4, 2000 "Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time; for tht's the stuff life is made of." Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard's Almanac
Four generations with baby laughing
Four generations with young mother laughing Health update: If I could cure my wrist and hand pain, I'd feel perfect. |
|
slug No buffer to the return to work today. Back to work tomorrow. I wake up at 6:30 but it's straight back to sleep and at 7:30 SuRu calls but succeeds in talking herself out of dog walking and me, too, of course. We sleep some more. We read the paper and have coffee and head to Westwood. After my workout I feel sleepy and hungry. We stop and get groceries and, at home, I get together a salad and then put some heat on my writst. That helps. It still hurts and pretty bad at times but it isn't numb and it feels like it's getting better. I don't know why I say that, exactly, but that's what I feel. Before I know it, it is 3. Then 5. And I haven't really accomplished anything. Ostensibly I'm cleaning up this work space. I always start with the slides occupying the area inside the door that I'm sorting. Get those out of the way, move on. Never seem to get through with them though. I took these from my mom determined to cull them, organize them and get them in a smaller footprint than the round plastic trays designed to go in a projector we no longer have. Seeing pictures of a skinny, teen-aged me is disconcerting. Nothing like I imagined I looked then. More attractive, thinner (in comparison sure, LB) and well, young. I find a 'four generation' picture taken about thirty-some years ago. The baby laughs. I fumble through the digital pictures I took in Denver. I printed a four generation one for my mom yesterday. The baby is a young mother, laughing a wide open laugh at her baby. My niece seems to look forward and back in these pictures. I can't say that this was all that productive a day. I played travel agent, a little. FFP and I read something about New Orleans in the paper and are considering a long weekend in December. Maybe see the D-Day musuem and some art galleries in this new district. Eat some good food. Get to know one another after the hectic fall. FFP investigated the Windsor Court Hotel. FFP looks it up briefly during a break from his QuarkExpress study. I hold a reservation for SuRu who may, just may take leave and join me in Paris.
Such a nice thing to just read the papers, read books and get my hands and feet massaged. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
