Good Girl, Good Day

There are some days when I jump out of bed at the clunk of dawn, ready to take on the world. And then there are days when I crack an eyeball to see if the sun's up yet, and snuggle back down. Sometimes this lasts an hour, sometimes all day. It depends on how urgent the things on my to-do list are.

Today was an "up at dawn" day, but it could turn into the other kind if I don't resist the urge to plant my butt back under the warm pile of comforters.

There is an old lady to visit, and house work to be done. I also have to see if I can patch the thin cord from the Wii to its receiver back together since the damn cat chewed through it. Every wire in my house is now wrapped with duct tape or run through a cable race.

How could I have missed that one?

Time passes...

...fast or slow, on it goes.

So much has happened in the past few years, aside from my ignoring this blog, I mean.

I joined an online weight loss program, and have posted there every day since June 2006. While writing, I've lost about 100 lbs. There are still about 30 left to go, and losing those is proving more difficult than the first 100.


There are so many places to share one's thoughts now. There's the weight loss thing, the dating site journal, facebook, and here. Not enough happens in my life that warrants so much documentation.

Since my last visit, the Offspring have moved out and on...to California. The cats haven't managed to learn cooking or bed making, and playing cards is out of the question.

Skootch settles for chewing through the wires of most things electronic that I really enjoy. Her latest victim is the wire that connects the sensor for the Wii to the system. I don't know if it can be patched back together. If it can, though, I'm the woman to do it. She has provided ample learning opportunities. Damn cat.



Christmas is coming, and it looks like the boys aren't. Family in GA and CO want me to go there, but plane tickets cost money, and air travel these days is just a bitch. The carry-on-or-pay-fifteen-bucks-to-check-your-baggage thing has turned every airplane into a Greyhound bus with wings. I keep expecting to see someone sitting in the back with a chicken under his arm.

Friends have offered to share their homes and celebrations. Holiday orphan or not, that sounds better than sitting crying at the cats while Christmas music plays on the radio. Too pathetic. Really.

Younger son may elect to make the drive, and it would be a joy to spend time with him. Since it isn't a sure thing, there will not be extensive decoration. He says he doesn't care about that stuff anyway. Well, I care about it. I care a lot. It just doesn't make sense to go to all that trouble when there's no one to share it. Add to that the fun of taking it all down and putting it away in January.

Sometimes the empty nest is cozy, quiet and tidy. Sometimes, it just echoes.