Sunday. December 9, 2001

tired flag in the neighborhood

buy a patriotic CD or put your butt on the flag

"Old age is woman's hell."

Ninon d L'Enclos

We really need to talk. About flag desecration and about our short attention span. Yesterday I heard Gary Condit's name again. So you would think we'd simply forgotten the stuff that initially distracted us from his story. And given the state of some of the flags you guys are 'flying' after the rain and wind had their way with them, you'd really think so. The retailers, though, have trotted out flags for your butt and all manner of other stuff. Your Christmas ornmaments can be patriotic, too. Heck, Clinton trots around New York now, the Teflon elder statesman. We've forgotten Viet Nam, forgotten flag descration as a hippie sport, forgotten our leaders' sins, never recognized our own. Oh. Well.

It was a bright, sunny day. SuRu and I walked the dogs to Central Market. Chalow tied her leash in knots around the table while we had a coffee.

As is usual on these walks, we solved a lot of the world's problems. I snapped pictures of flags in sorry states. The dogs did a job of tangling up. Zoey broke her choke collar and pulled the leash handle from SuRu another time but we got her before she killed herself.

Back home, my printer ran out of color cartridge on my holiday card project. I thought about going out to an office store or CompUSA but couldn't bring myself to do it.

FFP decided to get fresh flowers and by then it was almost 1PM so I sent him to Precision Camera.

We have two parties in the afternoon/evening.

The first is a Sunday afternoon Christmas music (and otherwise) jam. People have brought wine and cheese and desserts. We have brought a WEB friend and, at the last minute, decided to go to Fresh Plus and get a good bottle of Ridge Geyserville Zin blend. There is so much sweet stuff around that it gives me a rush looking at it. I eat some cheese and crackers and drink a couple of glasses of red wine. Somewhere amongst the songs and food and wine, my throat starts to hurt. Like it is swollen. Ouch.

I succumb to a cheesecake someone has brought it. Of course, cheesecake is a weakness I have and this is one of those cakey ones, pretty good.

And we head for the other party.

This one is a fund-raiser with wine and 'sumptious buffet.' I take the quote marks off when we get there. There are tables and tables of great food. But there is cheesecake in my stomach. So I have some smoked salmon. And some tamales. And a little wine. And wish I had an appetite and didn't have a sore throat. The house is open and a fire blazes in the fire place. I have to get close to it a couple of times to get warm.

We don't stay too late in deference to my emerging sore throat.

I take four-hour Dimetapp and Echinacea and FFP gives me a foot rub. He makes some soothing tea. I doze in my chair and am shocked when the phone rings, thinking it really late. But it isn't late. It's a little after nine. I must sound weird because the friend on the other end asks if it is a bad time. No, I was just dozing. He invites us for a holiday dinner. He mentions that he is retiring at the end of the year.

I try to read the paper but sleep, welcome sleep comes. I wake up long enough to realize it's been four hours, take a twelve-hour Dimetapp and go off to bed.

JUST TYPING
Sunny and cool.
Is so perfect.
If it is still or you can hide from the wind.