One foot in front of the other.
SATURDAY: I took the daughter to the Medieval Faire. She enjoyed the silly magician and the juggler who had an ax, a flaming stick and a rubber chicken in the air at once. She also enjoyed the Punch and Judy show, as much because the puppeteer had me control one of his marionettes for a short time; demented show with the devil showing up and Rensselaer (city across the river from Albany) a linguistic substitute for hell.
I always enjoy the crowning of the boy bishop; it’s all very High Church. Wait, it’s now the “child bishop”, which means the bishop is, for the first tiome in my recollection, a girl! Brava!
Then a brief trip to a pumpkin carving party. Lydia had lots of kids to play with and didn’t want to leave.
Finally, we got a babysitter and went to a friend’s 40th birthday party, which was pleasant enough.
SUNDAY: Choir rehearsal, then church service, then meeting for the Black History Month planning.
Mother of one of the kids at the pumpkin carving party called to note that her son was feeling lethargic; ah, Lydia, too.
Still we all went to the State Museum, mostly because Lydia wanted to go on the carousel. A church group of about 10 saw Through the Eyes of Others: African Americans and Identity in American Art; 1609; This Great Nation Will Endure: Photographs of the Great Depression; and Berenice Abbott’s Changing New York: A Triumph of Public Art. And yes, we all rode the carousel, even only one of us was under 40, and at least one of us was twice 40.
Then ANOTHER choir rehearsal.
MONDAY, TUESDAY: Home with a sick child. Her temperature was up Monday morning, then down Tuesday morning, when I thought she was rallying. But feverish Tuesday afternoon. When she was well was actually more work, keeping her occupied with Sorry, Uno, pick-up-sticks, Candyland… Difficult blogging conditions.
WEDNESDAY: Work, which comparatively speaking, was a vacation; the wife stayed home with the child. Although I got little done the first hour because my computer, and only MY computer, somehow decided to leave the LAN, and I had to wait for a techie to fix it.
There was this cellphone conversation in an elevator. The person standing near me: “Yeah, he was a good father. He never got drunk in the garage every weekend.” I didn’t know this person, but I felt embarrassed on her behalf.
Also, these guys were coming through our offices, only one of whom works there. So I say to the one I know, “Nobody else is here. Just you and me.” And one of the other guys walking by says in this condescending tone, “That’s ‘you and I‘.” “Shut UP! Wasn’t even talking to you; I don’t even KNOW you. Shut UP!” I thought that, but didn’t say it.
And in any case, almost no one would say, “Just we” in casual conversation; one would say say, “just us”, the objective version, at least colloquially. Even my English teacher-wife couldn’t discern for sure.
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Old records from 1895-1925 on the original victrolas
Care for Caregivers: Getting the help you need could save your life.
Stop Drowning in Mail: 4-Step System to Manage Mail Overload
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Picture above came in the e-mail yesterday with his note: “Eddie Haskell, The Beaver and Wally! HOLY Mackerel!! Are we REALLY that Old???” Yes, an excess of punctuation there.
ROG