Mourning the Lost Saturday Morning.
28 March, 2009 § 1 Comment
Three things of import to share with the world today:
Number one – – I still haven’t had the time, the energy or the plunge necessary to invest in two much-needed florescent light fixtures for my bathroom. I did, however, take the initiative in moving a floor lamp with an awesome red, sage green and golden striped shade from the living room to the bathroom. As a result, all of my showers have boasted of excellent mood-lighting recently. Good for ambiance but poor for personal hygiene. Favor, friends? Just let me know right away next time if I still have a glob of shampoo smashed in the back of my head…
Number two – – I am convinced that my elderly next-door-neighbor, Margaret, has a beau. Why? you may wonder. It’s not because I’ve been peeping through her spyhole (does that even work from the outside-in? a long-standing question of mine) or from pressing my ear against the door and listening to dinner conversations or even from spying on her from my front porch… no, my sleuthing is much sneakier than all of that. This morning on my way out the door to the office, I was initially somewhat disconcerted to spot a silver-haired, wrinkly-faced, bearded stranger plying his screwdriverly wiles on our mailbox – – until! until I realized it was Margaret’s mail-box. Eureka! It must be a match made in heaven. I’m convinced of it. Why else would a septagenarian haul his adorably palsied self out of bed and over to our front yard at 8.45 on a Saturday morning? As I thought: Margaret has a beau.
Number three – – so far, the most action I’ve had to take all morning has been to straighten an over-turned pot of daffodils back to its upright position on the front desk, help myself to a steaming mug of Gloria Jane breakfast blend brew from the Keurig in the lobby, turn on Chris Tomlin or something else appropriate for the waiting area of an admissions office and… wait. And then wait some more. (Did I mention I’m still waiting?) SATURDAY MORNING INTERVIEWEES, you have stolen my day of rest and now you have the guts to be a no-show? Unbelievable. There may be bloodshed on the quad later this afternoon.
Other one-sentence updates to bestow upon the my adoring masses of readers:
– There is (are?) a brand-new pair of spunky plaid wellies gracing my closet as of two days ago – – I may be in love.
– One of my favorite grand old oak trees about seven miles up the road apparently was suffering from rot at the base of the trunk and so the farmer of the field in which the oak was standing sawed it down this week.
– Kirsten and I officially procured a cottage in Cape Cod for a five-day summer’s holiday to celebrate our mutual 24th year of being alive as well as the completion of nursing school for her and the satisfying of a simple desire to see the ocean for me – – I can’t wait!
– And last but not least, last night I brewed a delicious pot of tomato vegetable soup that had a base of tomato paste with a good deal of oregano, garlic and pepper thrown in there as well. Now my kitchen (and subsequently my entire apartment) smells like Little Italy and it is splendid.