Monday,
December 30, 2002
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[ we have temporarily lost the video portion of this program]
Virginia Woolf's character Clarissa Dalloway (who is giving a party) in Mrs. Dalloway It is not enough to be h |
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nearing an ending First things first. Coffee. I think to get up at six but it's really seven when I do. While FFP is at the club I read the papers, do the puzzles, drink coffee, check my mail. When he returns (I think he's been gone a long time) he says he did the aerobic for forty-five minutes. I read that to lose weight you need to do the aerobic bit for 45 minutes at low resistance five times a week. I told him. He's trying it. He also bought gas he says. So, I go to the club. And ride the stationery recumbent bike for forty-five mintues while reading Mrs. Dalloway. Then I do all the arm and upper body exercises I can think of. New Year's Day will interrupt my schedule. It would be an upper body day.
Home again I call Dad, answer some e-mail, check the stock market. Then I shower and go out to check Dad's party preparations. He has shopped multiple times and is looking for the punch bowl. I tell him on the phone where I think it is.
I go by the grocery store on the way to Dad's and get some sparkling juice that is on sale. A number of his guests won't drink, I think. I buy some other things to make deviled eggs and vegies for dipping for him. Dad is quite prepared. He has even set up chairs and tables for games. He found two plastic tablecloths, one red, one green and has artfully arrange them on the table. He's found paper goods, cups, plates. He's going to make chili and black-eyed peas and has stuff for nachos and queso, he says. I can't believe how he's getting into this party. He says he is trying to 'pay people back.' His eyes go a little misty. He offers me a glass of cranberry juice. I refuse but he doesn't hear me and hands me a frosty glass with iced juice. It tastes pretty good. While I drink it he shows me the bird bath his granddaughter sent him and shows me his plants. "Do you know what
this is?" I don't. It's not blooming and it's multiplying like a
lariope. "Easter lillies!" He says triumphantly. "I don't know if they will bloom again but it's a pretty plant."
Home again I decide that I need to stock up on 'party wine.' There are threatened tornados and the sky is getting dark and sprinkles of rain occasionally dash around. I go to Grape Vine Market, get their help selecting moderately-priced wines of the red, white and sparkling variety and take sufficient quantity that I get a discount I like. So much easier than Sam's or World Market and then slepping your own wares. They put them right in my trunk. As I unload at home, the sky opens to a hard rain.
I decide that it is time for me to read. I have finished the day's newspapers. I work on Mrs. Dalloway in front of the big TV. The TV seems to have dissatisfying fare. There are reruns. If you end up watching the life of John Kennedy, Jr. well, you know. Also, since Christmas the TV in the big room, at last all wired so the video doesn't cut out, is picking up random interference from something. Did someone get some honking electronics for Christmas? Hard to say, but occasionally there is a crackle and then a wavy line passes up the screen. Irritating. I'm too lazy to play a DVD or something and see if it is the cable. I would think something in our own house was creating the interference only we didn't get anything new. Finally, finished with Mrs. Dalloway, I sit up in bed and read the short stories that I got for Christmas. I don't even finish the one I'm engaged in reading before sleep overcomes.
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176
JUST
TYPING