The Visible Woman...March 26, 2003

Naturally I feel tired this morning. The effort. The wine. The rich food. Feel good, but fuzzy. The party was a success. The aftermath must be dealt with. But, first...the Dad duties.

I meet Dad at an ENT's office. Surprised he has a hearing loss? asks the audiologist. Uh, no. They sell hearing aids. But we aren't going to buy from them. The ENT says his hearing loss is amenable to aids. That he has no other physical problem.

At home I wash china, silver, glasses. Put it away. Still more to do, but making progress.

Then it's time to take my father-in-law to a funeral of a ninety-year-old woman. He sees double and so a parked car becomes a potential head-on collision. But he shows me a back way to the funeral home and knows where we are, what streets, what's where.

He says the woman was always a 'sweet little girl.' He's two years older than she was. An elderly couple says 'hi' and he says he knew the man 'since he was a little boy.' He doesn't hear much of the service and my mother-in-law has instructed him not to go to the graveside service or the reception. I take him home.

I go for a workout and then shower up.

I wash and dry and polish and put away silver and china and glassware.

Our friend Leslie is coming to dinnner. She calls and asks about exercising. FFP is only too happy to take her to work out since he hasn't been. I finish washing glasses and stuff.

We go to Fonda San Miguel and have a nice dinner and talk about old times.

			life with father Naturally I feel tired this morning. The effort. The wine. The rich food. Feel good, but fuzzy. The party was a success. The aftermath must be dealt with. But, first...the Dad duties. I meet Dad at an ENT's office. Surprised he has a hearing loss? asks the audiologist. Uh, no. They sell hearing aids. But we aren't going to buy from them. The ENT says his hearing loss is amenable to aids. That he has no other physical problem. At home I wash china, silver, glasses. Put it away. Still more to do, but making progress. Then it's time to take my father-in-law to a funeral of a ninety-year-old woman. He sees double and so a parked car becomes a potential head-on collision. But he shows me a back way to the funeral home and knows where we are, what streets, what's where. He says the woman was always a 'sweet little girl.' He's two years older than she was. An elderly couple says 'hi' and he says he knew the man 'since he was a little boy.' He doesn't hear much of the service and my mother-in-law has instructed him not to go to the graveside service or the reception. I take him home. I go for a workout and then shower up. I wash and dry and polish and put away silver and china and glassware. Our friend Leslie is coming to dinnner. She calls and asks about exercising. FFP is only too happy to take her to work out since he hasn't been. I finish washing glasses and stuff. We go to Fonda San Miguel and have a nice dinner and talk about old times.

	another study of furniture "On several occasions I have actually read parts of my diary aloud to someone. But too much 'publicity' is destructive to a diary, because the diarist begins, unconsciously perhaps, to leave out, to tone down, to pep up, to falsify experience, and the reason for the undertaking becomes buried beneath posings." Gail Godwin, A Diarist on Diarists
	JUST TYPING When you are fifty something. You see yourself becoming your parents, becoming old. Without ever being as young. As they seem in old pictures. I keep saying. They are younger in this picture. Than I am now.

Wednesday, March 26, 2003