Just another day
2005-05-26, 4:44 p.m.

May 26th, my daddy�s birthday. He would have been 72 today. He lived to be 70. Father�s Day will be really strange this year, with both of our dads gone. Today, no birthday cards to buy. Makes me feel like I�m forgetting something.

Just after midnight tonight�well, tomorrow�will be one year since Belle�s been gone. I dragged her home from the pound, my parents did the keeping (loudly and reluctantly at first)�and keep her they did, for 18 years. Best calico cat in the whole wide world. She hung around for several months after Daddy died, to make sure Mama would be ok. Then, she didn�t want to die on Daddy�s birthday, so she waited until just after midnight. Who says animals don�t know these kinds of things? The vet said she was at least 21 years old, maybe more. She was a wise old girl.

Pretty day. Good day. Unproductive day. Sit-on-my-fat-behind-and-post-photos-to-Buzznet day. There�s so much to do, but I just donwannadoit, like laundry. I hate laundry. Doing it is fine, putting it away is not. Nudist colonies grow more appealing, except for the whole modesty thing, and that I�d be airlifted back to the aquarium, stat. How�d that whale get loose, anyway? An albino whale! Hot diggity! Yeah Se@World, quit circling my house, I�m on to you.

Hubby and I watched the season finale of Lost last night, and to sum it up in a word:
YEEEEAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHH
We are not patient people and we want it solved NOW dammit! Hubby was hopping and knocking the remote across the room and spewing that if they were just going to leave him hanging like that, then he won�t watch the show next season, THAT�LL show �em! Um, yeah, it sure would. Go get �em boy! Watching his expression three seconds later, when he realized what he had just said, was simply fabulous. The birth of a clue is a beautiful thing.

Hubby got a new $3000 toy computer for work and has spent extra time playing, er, working, learning software that makes other stuff look like Pong. He goes at it with gusto, completely understanding all the bleeps and blips and binaries. He�s tried to explain things to me, but my brain vaporizes and I stare at him, vacant and drooling. It�s not pretty. He�s good at explaining regular higher level math to most people, and has me understanding more of it than I ever did in high school. He would make a fabulous high school math and science teacher, if we didn�t have such an affinity for food, clothing, and shelter, all those things that a teacher�s salary fails to pay for.

Yesterday, a marvelous thing happened: Two neighbor boys knocked on our door and asked if Son could come out and play. That�s no biggie for most people, but for us, it�s somewhere between the Miracles of Christ and winning the powerball. Son, armed with lightsabers and plastic glow-in-the-dark machetes, scurried outside. Hubby came home soon after and I buried my head in his chest and was lost in hysterics. Relief. A sense of normalcy, that just maybe our child will be ok after all. He has a few good buddies, but for the most part other kids either tolerate him or shun him outright, because he is different, askew, literal and rigid with no happy medium on which to glide. To be sought out by normal little kids who haven�t known him since he was tiny, who haven�t been weaned on his mannerisms and coached on his behaviors�that little knock on the door was something I never, ever thought would happen.

The former owner of this house is having a yard sale tomorrow and Saturday, and I�m tossing in a few things. This evening we are setting up, tomorrow Daughter is babysitting her two precious little boys while we moms wreak havoc and harass customers, and Saturday morning I will hopefully get to loot and pillage my way across town at other sales. Should anything happen that will make us all richer, healthier, or even more beautiful I will be sure to let you know. Otherwise, back in a couple of days. Toodles�

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