The Visible Woman...April 29, 2003

large and small

I mean to be off to the gym early so as to get an early start. But I check backups again and FFP's didn't work except that WIN2000 just made a copy on his machine to 'synchronize' when it could make contact with mine but then failed writing the log to my machine. I think. It kept trying to sync. I finally had to let it do it after some booting and head scratching. So I was a little later than I'd intended.

All I had to do was aerobic and, if I could talk myself into it, abs and back. I did the bike for an alleged twenty miles (a little over fifty minutes it took) and did some abs.

Back home, I showered up and headed to Dad's.

I think that my goals for today's visit to Dad's are pretty clear. Start packing the stuff from the big dollhouse rooms. (See a couple of years ago for that house unfurnished after the parents moved here.) Have some lunch. Go get the wheelchairs we'd loaned to my friend.

It works out pretty well. I pack three rooms and come up with a list of things I need to bring from my house: packing tape, more small bubble wrap, some tiny boxes to further protect certain pieces, baggies and my Cabin light to light some of the pieces for photographing. It is tedious. Dad packs up a lamp Mom made decorated with marbles to take to Denver. I don't know how we will get all this stuff in the van. We probably won't. Then it's lunch time.

We go to Z'Tejas. It's one of those days when I know I should order a salad but I feel like I want something more substantial but when I get my food (pork enchiladas) I'm not all that interested in eating it. Dad has a small salad and some catfish beignets (an app that looked like a meal). I eat part of the large small salad, most of the enchiladas and some black beans and rice. And, yeah, a big piece of their wonderful cornbread with butter. Maybe that's what filled me up. My mouth feels sore. Ouch. I can't figure out if it's the temp or if they just beat up my gums.

I call my friend and she's home and we head out to her house. She lives in a gigantic house but she's trying to sell. She can't afford to stay. Next door on a piece of land she sold off, someone builds a mansion of copper to partially block her view. Someone who walked away from Dell with tens of millions of dollars. The landscape seems (literally) littered with same. How come we can't get them to donate to the arts? Well, yeah, some have. Maybe even these folks.

We load up the wheelchairs and I drive the van home. We stop off to see if one of Dad's friends in the neighborhood is home. Nope. Just the dog.

Was it a productive visit? Well, Dad was less lonely today. (Yesterday he stayed home, had no visitors save walking with his pregnant neighbor. Said it was lonely.) I got an idea how to pack these little rooms full of stuff. I got a small amount done. We got the wheelchairs.

I stop by Walgreen's. My main goal is to get some D rings they advertised. I want one to hold my coffee mug on to my waist pack for dog walking. I know.

I can't find them but find a three pack. I can't find other things they are supposed to have on sale. I get a call from FFP to get some cleaning stuff for the maid. I bump into a friend of Dad's and we talk. I buy FFP a heating thing for his back, too, and a key ring that splits apart so he can separate his car key for valets.

When I get home, the maid is gone. The workman on the pergola have finished. The bookkeeper is there and I greet her and her dog. (Her dog loves to come visit our yard. She is La Femme Nikita.)

I am fooling around and then FFP realizes that we are supposed to go to the 6:30 event early because he is supposed to have a little meeting. I dress. We don't get there when we are supposed to but we do get there early. It's one of those Fablu-houses. I would have decorated it differently but it's nice. There is wine. I have some. Food. Good...from Roy's and Fleming's. FFP courts people. They are trying to get Ballet Foundation donations. They have a model of the building they are trying to renovate. It is going to be very classy.

At the end we get to take home African violets in bloom that are decorations. They are lovely.

I get home, change, watch some TV and doze over the papers. Must get more done on my days on earth. I guess. Or maybe my progress creates negative energy elsewhere and destroys species. You never know.

got to move this stuff

"If you've ever really been poor, you remain poor at heart all your life."

Arnold Bennett

JUST TYPING
We live, partly, through our things.
If our things are one inch to one foot.
Or even .25 inches to one foot.
That's an odd thing indeed.

			large and small I mean to be off to the gym early so as to get an early start. But I check backups again and FFP's didn't work except that WIN2000 just made a copy on his machine to 'synchronize' when it could make contact with mine but then failed writing the log to my machine. I think. It kept trying to sync. I finally had to let it do it after some booting and head scratching. So I was a little later than I'd intended. All I had to do was aerobic and, if I could talk myself into it, abs and back. I did the bike for an alleged twenty miles (a little over fifty minutes it took) and did some abs. Back home, I showered up and headed to Dad's. I think that my goals for today's visit to Dad's are pretty clear. Start packing the stuff from the big dollhouse rooms. (See a couple of years ago for that house unfurnished after the parents moved here.) Have some lunch. Go get the wheelchairs we'd loaned to my friend. It works out pretty well. I pack three rooms and come up with a list of things I need to bring from my house: packing tape, more small bubble wrap, some tiny boxes to further protect certain pieces, baggies and my Cabin light to light some of the pieces for photographing. It is tedious. Dad packs up a lamp Mom made decorated with marbles to take to Denver. I don't know how we will get all this stuff in the van. We probably won't. Then it's lunch time. We go to Z'Tejas. It's one of those days when I know I should order a salad but I feel like I want something more substantial but when I get my food (pork enchiladas) I'm not all that interested in eating it. Dad has a small salad and some catfish beignets (an app that looked like a meal). I eat part of the large small salad, most of the enchiladas and some black beans and rice. And, yeah, a big piece of their wonderful cornbread with butter. Maybe that's what filled me up. My mouth feels sore. Ouch. I can't figure out if it's the temp or if they just beat up my gums. I call my friend and she's home and we head out to her house. She lives in a gigantic house but she's trying to sell. She can't afford to stay. Next door on a piece of land she sold off, someone builds a mansion of copper to partially block her view. Someone who walked away from Dell with tens of millions of dollars. The landscape seems (literally) littered with same. How come we can't get them to donate to the arts? Well, yeah, some have. Maybe even these folks. We load up the wheelchairs and I drive the van home. We stop off to see if one of Dad's friends in the neighborhood is home. Nope. Just the dog. Was it a productive visit? Well, Dad was less lonely today. (Yesterday he stayed home, had no visitors save walking with his pregnant neighbor. Said it was lonely.) I got an idea how to pack these little rooms full of stuff. I got a small amount done. We got the wheelchairs. I stop by Walgreen's. My main goal is to get some D rings they advertised. I want one to hold my coffee mug on to my waist pack for dog walking. I know. I can't find them but find a three pack. I can't find other things they are supposed to have on sale. I get a call from FFP to get some cleaning stuff for the maid. I bump into a friend of Dad's and we talk. I buy FFP a heating thing for his back, too, and a key ring that splits apart so he can separate his car key for valets. When I get home, the maid is gone. The workman on the pergola have finished. The bookkeeper is there and I greet her and her dog. (Her dog loves to come visit our yard. She is La Femme Nikita.) I am fooling around and then FFP realizes that we are supposed to go to the 6:30 event early because he is supposed to have a little meeting. I dress. We don't get there when we are supposed to but we do get there early. It's one of those Fablu-houses. I would have decorated it differently but it's nice. There is wine. I have some. Food. Good...from Roy's and Fleming's. FFP courts people. They are trying to get Ballet Foundation donations. They have a model of the building they are trying to renovate. It is going to be very classy. At the end we get to take home African violets in bloom that are decorations. They are lovely. I get home, change, watch some TV and doze over the papers. Must get more done on my days on earth. I guess. Or maybe my progress creates negative energy elsewhere and destroys species. You never know.
	got to move this stuff "If you've ever really been poor, you remain poor at heart all your life." Arnold Bennett

	JUST TYPING We live, partly, through our things. If our things are one inch to one foot. Or even .25 inches to one foot. That's an odd thing indeed.