AUSTIN, Texas, May 28, 2005 — The sounds of rain and complex dreams and the stirrings of FFP getting up and making something to eat don't get me out of bed. But my dad's call around eight does. His power is out in the storm. He's discussed it with similarly afflicted neighbors. He seems upbeat and none the worse for wear for his adventures yesterday. I get up, get dressed. look outside, get some coffee. I then proceed to spend two hours typing in my journal and looking up a few things on the WEB. I talk to my dad again. Power is on. He got the paper but it's wet. "I have it on the table on the screen porch. I'll get to read it eventually."

The rain has given me permission to laze around this morning. His adventures yesterday make him think he'll stay in all day. Of course, I won't do that. Never do.

FFP goes off to the gym. And comes back. It's after ten. Still...plenty of time to work out, right? I've played tennis the last two days and not been in the gym. Shame.

I get to the gym. It's a media blitz around eleven as I settle in on the recumbent bike. French Open on one screen. UT baseball on two others. The Big Lebowski on the fourth. How's a girl to read Sort of Rich by James Wilcox or the almost month-old travel section from The New York Times that I retrieved off the floor of my office?

I ride the bike for over fifty minutes, reading during commercials watching the tennis on the read clay. When I play on the 'dirt' it is an artificial green stuff that really doesn't seem much like the red clay of Roland Garros. Have I mentioned that I have a dream to attend all the tennis Grand Slams? But I digress. After my bike ride I do a few things with weights where I can glance up at the green grass of a baseball field and the red clay. Dead lifts. Chest crossovers. Leg extensions. But soon I feel compelled to leave the gym. I stop at the Randall's on 38th Street to vote early in the runoff for Austin City Council. But they don't have voting today (although they did yesterday and maybe next week). So as not to waste the stop I buy a birthday card for FFP's uncle.

Driving home I feel hungry. I know we have some leftovers. I'm sort of hoping FFP is cooking something. He is. Two things, matter of fact. Chicken breasts in ginger mango and fish stew. I have some of the stew and a couple of pieces of toast and some honey. I continue watching the French Open. Ferrero and Safin are locked into a real battle. I retreat to my office and turn on the TV there. I somewhat spoil the drama of watching the tennis by seeing the results online.

When the tennis is over, golf comes on. I watch about an hour of golf a year. And this isn't the day. I wander outside with FFP, helping him lift a bag of mulch out of his trunk, pulling up and chopping unwanted things. I don't do too much work, but I scope out what I might need to do next week before Austin Lyric Opera uses the yard as a venue for a fund-raising event. Another oil treatment on the teak early in the week. Get some more invasive bamboo chopped down. Wipe off the other furniture again on Saturday morning. Tidy up the pops and pans behind the potting shed. Sweep off the patios if they need it after the yardmen blow stuff off. FFP continues to go around mulching beds, putting things in pots, generally making things look good.

I go inside. FFP is going to a memorial service for a departed friend. I didn't really know the guy. He's someone from the ad business, before the time when I even knew FFP. He gets ready to do that while I watch one of the movies I am reviewing for AFF. I pick out a wine for dinner at Zoot, wash a few dishes, snack, read papers. I shower and groom. I call and check on my dad. He isn't doing much. Has been outside to get the mail is all.

We have these friends who got married in our backyard. We already celebrated with them once this month (both of us have May anniversaries). But we paid that time and they want to pay this time. They brought a very nice bottle of wine that time. We will try to do so this time. I have picked a 1993 Alexander Valley Silver Oak Cabernet Sauvignon. FFP and I agree meet at the restaurant since he's at the memorial thing. People can and often do go on and on when asked to speak about the departed.

However, he calls and says he's headed home and we can go in one car. He comes in telling me about someone interesting that he met at the get together. I flip off a film I'm reviewing.

We get ourselves together and go to the restaurant. We have our bottle of wine and we get a four top along the banquette. While we wait for our pals (we are early, imagine that?) the staff gets the wine uncorked and decanted. It tastes very nice. We order a couple of little apps. When they get there we toast marriage all over again and discuss what's going on with us. Our pal Sam bought a carrier you strap on your chest for their little dog LuLu. He tells how she loves it so much more than a backpack worn backwards as a place for the dog. Our friend Deb rolls her eyes. It seems like a reasonable purchase to me. We talk about the perfect bag and the quest for it. Sam takes a digital picture of us and says he got another bigger SLR type digital camera. And a new gym bag. We are easily pleased in our old age.

We eat (me: carrot soup and foie gras and a cheese plate). We order a Shiraz after finishing the Silver Oak. Probably the wrong order but who cares?

The staff at Zoot seems glad to see us. Steve B. is back as maitre d' and that makes it feel like old times but the kitchen is definitely the new Zoot, the later Stewart S. We haven't been there in a while and everyone seems glad to see us. Many of the rest of the patrons are the multi-generational groups so common this time of year. We only see one couple who we know.

We go home and try to watch the HBO mini-mini series (a three hour movie over two nights) Empire Falls. It is star-studded and seems faithful to the story. Phillip Seymour Hoffman is one of my favorite actors but he just didn't seem like the right fit for the character he plays. (I have my own impressions of these characters to deal with after reading the book.) Ed Harris seems perfect. Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward make it work. Aiden Quinn seems pretty good in his role but I'm bothered about what movie I remember him for. (Later: Desperately Seeking Susan, maybe?) Robin Wright Penn really nails her role and the boy who plays the Ed Harris character as a boy is good. Well, there are so many characters that it's easy to see why it had to be longer than a regular movie. Oh, yeah, and Dennis Farina is good for his role, too, and most at ease in the movie in a way. He doesn't seem to be working at it, just seems to have wandered into the movie fully in character. More so than in the crime dramas. Of course, everyone is more believable in a Richard Russo piece than a crime drama. Well, the second half is tonight so we will see. FFP dozed a lot through this one and I did a bit so we will have to review the first one maybe. We are both big Russo fans. I actually think I would have liked to have seen Straight Man brought to the screen. It doesn't bubble with so much history (of the town and people). It's smaller, more contained. Anyway. Makes me want to reread the novels I've read, read the ones I haven't. Heck, I'm having trouble figuring out if I read two or three of them or more.

But sleep wins. There are only so many hours in the day. To exercise, to read, to eat, to do chores and dream. I wake from my sleep to notice that it is raining again. Awash in media, awash in actual rain.