No Nights Off

Saturday afternoon. Blair and I are flipping through cookbooks, looking for meals for the upcoming week. "So how many nights will you be home this week?" he asks.

I think about it and then gently close the cookbooks. "None."

He closes his cookbook too. "So I guess we're on our own for the week."

I guess so. Here's my nightly schedule for this week:

• Monday (yesterday): Went with a friend to Salem College to hear Elizabeth Gilbert speak. She is the author of EAT, PRAY, LOVE which has catapulted to one of my favorite books of all time. She didn't disappoint as a speaker. Funny, down-to-earth, poignant. During the Q&A period I just wanted to raise my hand and ask, "Will you be my friend?"  Anyway, left the house at 5:30 and home by 9.
• Tuesday: Writer's Group meeting tonight from 7-9, which will put me home about 10.
• Wednesday: Birthday dinner for my friend Kay at 7. A great chance to celebrate Kay's birthday and catch up with some trail running friends. Home by 10.
• Thursday: I'm a speaker at the Women Connecting with Women Business Showcase at the Greensboro Public Library from 5:30 - 8:30 pm.
• Friday: The NC Writers' Network Fall Conference begins. My friend Pam and I are presenting a 2-hour workshop on Saturday, but I'll attend the Friday night talk which STARTS at 9. (Who planned this anyway--a 16 year old???)
• Saturday: Spending the night at the hotel where the conference is being held as the program again runs late into the night
• Sunday: Conference in the morning, running in the afternoon, home for a quick shower and then back to GSO for the end-of-the-season 6 p.m. dinner with my running group.

Blair's schedule is the opposite of mine in that he usually leaves the house by 6:30 a.m. and arrives home about 8, in bed by 9:30, which is usually when I'm walking in the door.  We looked at each other this morning and were like, "Okay, so see you Monday? Yes? Sounds good..."

This should be the last week of big projects. Personally, I'm looking forward to some down time. 

I'm Not Getting Off The Couch

It is 7 p.m. at night and I am freezing. Our thermostat is registering 70 degrees, but it lies.  It's dropping into the lower 30's tonight and that's about what my internal body temperature is at.  Once my body gets the first whiff of winter air, it's all over. My fingers, feet, and butt go numb--and stay numb--until the spring thaw.

Which is why I refuse to move from the coach. I've finally figured it out. For years I've blamed the early darkness on my winter lethargy, offering the darkness outside as the reason I never left the house or had a productive moment after 5:30 p.m. But I've come to realize that darkness isn't the issue. I can deal with dark. It's the freaking cold that's rendered me immobile.

I was on the couch this evening, watching bad TV.  I don't want to be watching this, I thought to myself. I want to be upstairs, working.

And I did. I really wanted to work. But that would have required me leaving the nest of warmth I'd created under the couch blanket, setting my feet on ice-cold hardwood floors that would numb them on contact, and feeling the rush of cold fill the space around me.  So forget it. I found a Bobby Flay cooking show and settled in.

I truly, truly love our 100 year old house but mother-of-God, it's cold. We have cracks under doors and windows and air seeps in and seeps out at about an even rate of exchange. And even if we said "gas bill and conservation efforts be damned," and cranked the heat up to 90, it wouldn't make that much of a difference. My body has tasted winter. My nose will be cold from now until June. I will randomly turn on hot water faucets and stick my hands under them until they're red and chapped in an effort to warm them up. And Blair--poor, poor Blair. Give the man your pity.

He's the one who has to deal with my ice-cold feet in bed at night.

With my best greetings from the land of the couch, I remain yours truly,

Dena

Daylight Savings Time Doesn't Affect Cats

Someone forgot to tell our cats that Daylight Savings Time went into effect last night. Instead of the purring, pawing, annoying cats that greet us every morning at 4:15 a.m., this morning we had the joy of being awakened by the same creatures at 3:15 a.m.

"Look at the clock" I moaned, as I shoved a cat off my belly. "It's not even four-frickin'-a.m."

"Mow. Meow. Mow."

How do you reason with someone like that?  I sense a week or two of no sleep ahead of us...

Welcome To Hogwarts!

Hogwarts School of Wizardry was the theme for Halloween 2007. We had a good crowd of kids that dropped off promptly at 8. No late night doorbell ringers. Everyone appeared to enjoy our theme and for the kids dressed as Harry's or Hermionie's, well, perhaps we slipped them just a little extra candy...

 Setting the scene...

Blair as Dumbledore. Click to enlarge.   A cauldron full of candy!

Welcome to Hogwarts! Click to enlarge.

 
The sorting hat 
My costume wasn't as good as Blair's...  The full effect!