I’m happy to report that Georgie is making progress. Thank god. This means the family has moved back upstairs after sleeping downstairs for one more night. Friday was rough. We squeezed into the guest bed, Georgie with his enormous cone. I settled in and called out to the cats, “Lola, Dex..”
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE! There is no room!” Andrea yelled, cutting me off.
Elliot, Andrea’s cat who we’re both a little fearful of, jumped on the bed and walked around on us. Andrea let out a shriek and then there was an enormous crash.
“Is he injured?” I asked.
“He stepped on my boob! I’m injured.” Andrea said.
“I heard a crash.” I say, accidentally failing to express sympathy towards Andrea’s boob.
“Well. I can take a look. See if he’s plastered to the ground like Wile E. Coyote.” Andrea leans off the side of the bed, using the light on her cell phone to take a look.
“Did Wile E. Coyote make a loud crash sound?” I ask.
“A cloud of dust would come up.” Andrea says and I think about how weird our conversations are.
Yesterday, we adulted by driving up to Reeds Ferry Sheds in Hudson, NH. Our current shed is an 8x8 storage type container. I inquired about having it hauled away and explained that it looked more like a room where a woman had been held against her will.
“So you’re asking us to clear away a crime scene?” The RF consultant asks.
“Well, it’s not our crime scene but yes, that’s a possibility.” I offer.
I have no idea how the previous home owner managed with the small shed but Andrea reminded me that she didn’t have a snowblower or a lawnmower. She had a boyfriend. Since we do not have a boyfriend, we clearly need a shed to store all this crap, corn hole boards, and pool supplies. Reeds Ferry was worth the schlep as we opted for loft space on both sides of the shed as well as higher walls. A boyfriend may be cheaper. As an aside, it turns out there is a concrete dude in our town so I have reached out to him about putting in concrete around our pool. If the concrete guy is any good, I have enough projects to keep him busy for a long time. Patio. Stairs down to patio. Front stairs and walkway. Blahblahblah.
Since yesterday was too adulty, we went to Mill No. 5 in Lowell, MA today. Mill No. 5 is the a textile mill from 1873 in Lowell, Massachusetts that has been renovated to preserved the mills historic character and to “keep the spirit of imagination, craft and industry alive, relevant and contemporary. We are a partnership of collaborators that is fueled by passion. We participate in each other’s success. We engage our community to create connections.” I love that there is this space supporting creativity and entrepreneurship.
On Sunday’s, the mill hosts a Farmers Market. Easter Sunday was our first visit to Mill No. 5. In spite of the holiday, the shops were all open. However, I suspect the Farmers Market had less vendors than was the norm. One vendor was on-hand with two baby lambs which was cute, Easter/Spring and all, until you realized that later they would be available for lamb chops. I love lamb. The cute ones and the chops.
I've decided to start running again. And not just because I've gotten fat. It's because gd Georgie has energy to burn. He's too young to run now which is why I should start soon - so I am ready for him. That and maybe I need less screen time. My fingers are a few itchy keystrokes away from typing, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!" I have a short list of things I'm already tired of hearing about (you may want to stop reading here) but let me limit it to one topic. I am intrigued about some of the outrage regarding Maureen Walsh's comments about nurses playing cards. Don't get me wrong - this was an incorrect and ignorant statement. But here's the thing - there have been numerous ignorant and incorrect statements uttered as of late and I don't understand the outrage from people who were silent when Nazis were referred to as very fine people, when grab them by the pussy was a refrain, when disabled people were mocked, when children were separated from their parents and locked in cages. But this? This is where the line was drawn. This went too far. This particular ignorance is too much. I think once more of Pastor Martin Niemöller's quote.
Maybe I should have been a nurse? As the current presidency drones on, I'm grateful for candidates like Beto O'Rourke and Peter Buttigieg.
“I wish the Mike Pences of the world would understand, that if you have a problem with who I am, your quarrel is not with me,” Buttigieg has said. “Your quarrel, sir, is with my creator.”
I woke up kinda angry about Easter - it's a misplaced anger. It's not God I have a problem with - it's these shiny, happy, people dressed in their finest for church, some of whom I have labeled, "hypocrites." But my itchy fingers - they don't type that. They are still. Silent. I know that some churches do still preach love for all. Some shine a light in the darkness and for that I am grateful.
