December 14, 2004

10:22 a.m.

Tuesday Pickin's

Health issues bobbing up this week. Rose is putting me on something or other for reflux, though it's not assured that's what I have -- the symptoms being rather atypical as far as that goes -- but nothing else seems to have helped so far, so there's no harm in trying. Yesterday I was down for about 6 hours with molten lead in my stomach and a backache. It finally subsided when I was eating macaroni and cheese and collard greens and reading Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" out loud to myself. What a wonderful book, by the way; no stage adaptation can possibly do it justice.

Other than that, I caught a vestige of Rose's sore throat, apparently, when I was there last week, but that hasn't been too bad or constant, so my pumped-up-like-Charles-Atlas immune system is doing its job. We switched this week's rehearsal back to Thursday, so aside from a few errands and a solo practice, I have the day to myself.

Oh, and I have to do a chart for someone who wants to learn one of my songs for a talent show in February.

Oh, and I have to hand wash a couple of big, bulky sweaters.

By the way, the huge sweater I made was actually too big for Chris -- it fanned out a little like a dress at the bottom -- so he couldn't wear it. I now don't know what to do with it. Dar facetiously suggested I use it as a car seat cover. It would certainly fit over the seat. But it's so beautiful and unwearable! And I don't think I want to pull it apart because there are so many knotted ends woven in, it would be a real pain to take apart and try to redo. Maybe I'll just wear it around the apartment. I wonder if there's a way to take it in. You can't just cut it smaller like fabric, though. I'll have to think on't.

There's got to be a way.

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Someone called me at 6:00 this morning, dragging me up out of a dream. It was a wrong number. Sounded like a very unintelligent person. "Hello?" (pause...) "Tha' Pat?" "You have the wrong number." Click. Two minutes later, sure enough, the phone rings again. I let the machine get it. My machine says, "Hi, you've reached Bornearly at xxx-xxxx. Please leave a message at the tone. If you're not calling for Bornearly, you have the wrong number! Thank you." So the message played, the beep beeped, and there was this confused pause and a slight rustling as though the person were considering ACTUALLY STILL LEAVING A MESSAGE FOR PAT. She finally hung up. It took me a long time to get back to sleep.

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If you'd like to see some cute teapots, go here.

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It's way past time for breakfast, so I'm off.