AUSTIN, Texas, Apr. 24, 2005 — Some days you just don't connect with your spouse. You have your own agenda. We had one of those days. Not a bad thing, just weird when it happens like this on a Sunday. Of course, now that we are both slipping into retirement mode, we have weekdays when we end up spending lots of time together which was very odd indeed in the days when I worked.

My friend SuRu and I have decided that a dog walk in our old tradition is in order. She comes for me at 8:30. It's not that Forrest never comes along on such adventures. But it's pretty

clear he doesn't want to do it today.

SuRu comes at 8:30 and she drives us to Hyde Park. We park near Elizabet Ney Museum and Shipe Park. We walk down to 38th, over to Duval, across a little way by the golf course, back to Duval and the smell of tacos drags us into Julio's. Or rather into their patio area where we tie up the dogs and I wait with them while SuRu orders tacos and gets coffee. It takes rather long but no one seems to care. After we've eaten and drank our coffee and given the dogs water we set out again, walking up and down and around to get a few more blocks in. We even take on a few alleys for variety. (Although it's been a while, we have hoofed the neighborhood many times and it takes a lot to surprise us.)

When I get home, FFP is gone to the gym. A note on the back door says so although it's only what I would have assumed. I answer a phone call from friends. They want to know if they can use our backyard for a benefit in June. I tell them that if my dad is lots better that I will be in Colorado...that FFP would have to say yes. I write him a note around his note saying he's at the gym and stick it back on the back door.

And go to Dad's. I start tidying up, cleaning his coffee stuff, getting some laundry together. I ask him if he wants lunch. But he says my friend Jon is bringing him lunch. Sure enough he does. I get out plates and glasses for the sandwiches and chips and bottled tea. I eat one of the giant Danish he has brought.

He brought Dad a big joke book, too. We talk a while and he has to go. I wait around, reading until I get all the laundry done and put away. Then I leave, too.

When I get home, the note on the back door is a new one. "I'm at the ballet deal." Yeah, I knew he was going to this event. I would have gone, too, but for needing to take care of some of my Dad's chores.

I fool around with my computer, read a little. FFP comes home.

"SuRu and I are going to see The Interpreter ... want to go?" SuRu and I had concocted this plan during our walk.

He hesitates. He really likes to watch Desperate Housewives although of course we could record it. No, he decides. He's agreed, it seems, to using the garden for the benefit in June. He decides to do a little gardening and heads off to the garden store to get some plants. I do not point out that the party is over a month away. Nor do I go along or offer to help him work in the yard. I've already gotten into the movie plan. I go shower and get ready, running some shows by off the DVR. I eat some chicken and cole slaw FFP bought at the store some time today. I go to Fandango and get tickets to the show.

FFP comes inside and says, "Do you want to help me chop?" I think he's talking about the garden but he is talking about making a salsa fresca (well, without cilantro because we don't have any) for fish tacos. But I won't be here to share the tacos because it's time to go to the show soon and I'm writing an e-mail about prescriptions to Dad's GP.

I get to the movie early. Even though there is zero line for the box office, I use the machines that issue tickets (which I already bought) just because I never have. I sit in my car (in my parking place up front) and wait for SuRu. She is early, too. We fret over what to order for movie food and end up with a 'small' popcorn and a small water and a small Root Beer. I will wish I had more water.

We go to the auditorium but it's about fifty degrees in there so we go complain and sit on a bench. When we go in it's cold but not SO cold. Gradually the theater fills up.

I've heard critics say that The Interpreter is hard to follow but I didn't really think so. Oh, yeah, you have to believe there is a country in Africa that doesn't really exist but is, obviously, an alamgam of ones that do. White settlers, murders, intrigue, the UN at a loss about what to do. But I got it and understood the little hints they spread around. The ending was OK, too, although I did have some objections to it. (I won't go on about that to avoid spoiling it.) Let me just say that I believe something quite different would have happened to the Nicole character and I didn't believe that she was where she was and could have gotten there in the last few scenes. Logistically. Nor did I believe that she or Sean (who was supposed to care about her) could be that blasé about where she was going to end up in spite of all the other loose ends and where they were connected.

Suru and I tried to go to MannyHattan's after for a piece of that great NY cheesecake to share but they were closed. We had an ill-advised plate of nachos at Taco Cabana and loaded it with jalapenos. I would feel that through the night. Maybe I should have had beer instead of water with it.

At home, FFP says Desperate Housewives was a disappointment. It was a replay of clips of old material with some new stuff stuck on the end or something. He did like L Word and it was replaying so I watched it. It segued to Fat Actress and we got a few laughs over it. I don't think I'd watch that all the time, though.

I try to read the papers. I don't make much progress.We go to bed.