.Sunday, April 14, 2002

she really is on her leash, coppers, I retouched the photo

isn't she the cutest thing imaginable?

"Gardez-vous de demander du temps; le malheur n'en accorde jamais."
Honoré-Gabriel de Riquetti, Comtede Mirabeau

Don't be so foolish as to ask for more time; calamites will not wait.

I do some WEB stuff, drink coffe, rub my eyes, answer some personal e-mail, mess around with stuff, eat migas FFP fixes, clean up the pan, stand in the yard discussing stuff we need to do and whether that plant over there is poison ivy. FFP comes out of the potting shed with some small garden snips.

"If you are ever at a hardware store...I need some of these. These don't work."

"How about the ones in the garage?" I say. I don't know if there are any there, but there sure could be. I go look. There's a pretty nice pair there. I lucked out on that cocky comment.

Forrest makes a trip to the grocery store for coffee and something else. (Did I mention the Capresso is back from the latest fix? Seems to be working at the moment.)

I look at why the backup scripts won't run automatically. I can't figure it out.

I talk FFP into taking a walk. I have a little pain in my back, just below the waist, right side. I didn't have it yesterday, I did have it the day before. I think walking might loosen it up. We walk down to the park and back. After crossing 45th Street, we find an old tennis ball, chewed through by a dog. FFP doesn't like it but we kick it along, trying to get Chalow to do it, too. She isn't interested although I manage to get her to do a double by passing it to where she is walking, sniffing sniffing as usual.

I am happy on the walk even though my back keeps hurting. I am just observing the houses and people and where the ball lands. I think that's the secret. I'm happy when I'm just observing but when I try to make something happen, do something, it makes me tense. I was meant to be a dilettante writer and photographer. That's all there is to it. I take a couple of shots of Chalow for her 'project.' This years official bluebonnet shot and one with a fire hydrant.

We stop by FFP's parents' house because his mom is out in the yard, replanting stuff. She is 82 and is out there bending over. She finds a treat for the dog and gives her water. His dad has wallked to the next block to see a house being remodeled. When we leave he is sitting on the front porch. He says that he went inside the contruction. FFP's dad is 91 and walks with a cane.

When we get home my back still hurts. FFP has a couple of things he needs printed to finish a poster for a client's business lobby. I start helping him and he heats up this heating thing full of buckwheat for my back.

We have to rush around then to get ready for the opera ball. We have to get there early so he can see that the society photographers get pictures of his committee and all that. We are standing around for an hour and a half. I look at the auction items and talk to our friends and table mates, dissing some of the dresses. Of course, I've worn tuxedo pants, a custom black on black jacket and a silver sparkly turtleneck. I threw this together at the last second. My back still hurts so I get some wine.

The Hot Cakes are playing. We finally sit down (more wine) and before the app FFP and I get up to dance. This starts a dance floor stampede and people will dance throughout the evening with a break for a live auction and a break for opera arias. Tunes like Crazy and Waltz Across Texas and Fools Rush In appeal to these folks. I don't know if it's the wine or the dancing but my back stops hurting. Yeah! Very cool.

I guess I've figured it out. I'm just not meant to accomplish things. I'm meant to have fun ideas that are never implemented. To comment and observe others while having their faults in spades. And working, trying to accomplish something is just going to frustrate me. About the thing with friends and relationships: more and more I enjoy the ones that let me be my useless self, without envy or disgust.

JUST TYPING
Watching time escape.
Your one big idea still far away.
Your slow pursuit of wonderful things receding.
Into the dreaminess of dreams.