I know there's something scientific about it. There must be, because it is an established fact that the older you get the faster time moves. It sort of feels like a free fall about now, with so much happening in the past few (and next few) weeks.
The workshop went well on Friday. The seven hours total driving time made for a very long day, and Saturday was sort of a wash, lots of time spent vacantly staring into space. But H1 came over in the afternoon and we went for a bike ride and the weather was glorious.
No, we did not feel the earthquake. It supposedly rocked our world around 4:30 in the morning, and if would have to be one pretty big tremor to awaken me.
Last fall, our neighbor two doors down reported that their two Rotweilers went CRAZY barking one day and when they looked out the window they saw a VERY large cat (like a cougar or a mountain lion) strolling along their back fence. Last week in Chicago, a cougar was sited in a north shore suburb and was eventually cornered and shot. Here's wondering if it was the same cat...
Tomorrow and Tuesday are full work days in order to be ready to leave Wed. morning for Tulsa. I got a cheaper ticket out of O'Hare so P is taking me to the airport. Thanks, honey! Tuesday is my dad's birthday, so between now and then, look for a commemorative post.
Saying that made me realize my brother turned 50 earlier this month and I didn't write about him...sorry, M. The first memory that always pops into my head (and our recollections of this event are exactly the same, even though we were only 2 and 4 at the time) is when the boat motor standing in the corner of the garage fell over on him (he was no doubt trying to scale it) and severed his little finger from his left hand. I was sent to the garage to find out why he was crying. I ran back inside to report, my mother wrapped his hand in a white towel, and we were about to leave for the hospital. Unable to find the car keys in the midst of such trauma, our next door neighbor drove us, and truthfully, we could have walked there faster. Or so it felt at the time. I stayed in the waiting room, and I can remember my dad arriving, and hearing M crying from behind the big doors. It was decided to not reattach his finger, the rationale being that he'd never miss a pinky and having it there but not working right would be more trouble than it was worth. And they were right - it never slowed him down, not once, even while he was recuperating. He was as much of a little monkey as ever, climbing out of his crib at night with the cast up past his bicep to go to the bathroom. It's amazing how this event was burned into our young minds forever, and how when I think of him, this is what I think of first. Well, anyway, I gave him a call on his birthday, and welcomed him to the 50's, having, as usual, blazed the way first. I will always precede him. :)
I just hope that American is up and running and on time come Wednesday. I'd really rather spend my time with my family than in the airport.
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