How you ladies persevere! over the strife of bad hotels and tourist ripoffs (the French are the same way about napkin usage - wtf people?) and somanystairs. Mostly it sounds like you're both rolling with the hot and the sweat and embracing the ride, vanbreakdowns and all. I love hearing about candy-making and random snake-handling and tour guides addicted to Facebook. Also, let's not overlook the fact of a guide named Cornelius, which makes me think of the Rudolph special and Yukon Cornelius checking his pickaxe for gold. (There's an old-school Christmas special reference in EVERYTHING.)
It's been two weeks with Sophie and after her morning bout of Puppy Crazies, she's resting in my lap. Aw, puppy. She's a good one. Loved and loving. Smart and so far an oddly good little puppy student, although there's of course the obligatory streak of stubbornness and spite, with a dash of punk. Would things be interesting otherwise. And Bender, dare-I-say, is making a full recovery with YuckBattle 2013. One would think canned food and meds would be a giant pain in the ass, but that she's a heedless wolfer-downer-of-mushy-food, this has all been mercifully easy. So Bender lives a little while more. ThankyouGod for that. Because she's a spaz, that one, but need I emphasize my love for the creature.
Oh, I feel like I traveled to you last night in my dreams! Like I did some high-five with Cath as she left, and I appeared, and who knows what country we were even in or going to, but it all made sense in the dream. I met M, I feel like? And some other K teachers? There were boats and hotels and sunsets. Cityscape. Lots of glass and water. And it seemed improbable even within the context of the dream that I was there, but somehow there I was and you were like, here's where we are going, come along with me.
Bells was not as epic-long as I had expected, because I'm not in fact playing Sunday (the next Sunday instead), but tonight shall be some silliness in which our director will pretend to be very arrogant, direct us badly, get fed up, direct a recorded performance instead, during which we walk out - then we play for real (hopefully well) without his help, but then he takes a bow for our performance, taking credit. And gets a cream pie to the face. For realsies.
J.Lo has The Snarfle now, adding a high-maintenance wrinkle to weekend events, but whatevs. I think he'll still rally and participate as penelope requires. He did build me the awesome planter box after all, complete with wheels. And I've been gathering Easter Garden supplies, although according to Mom I'm still on Wilmington time with my expectations of what the home improvement store should have available this time of year. Slim pickings, but I'll make do. Yesterday I harvested moss from the yard(!) (will it live!), made a cross from string and sticks, purchased a $4 clay, stone-esque pot MADE IN VIETNAM that will serve as a tomb. Rocks from the yard have been collected. Today I buy dirt, and drainage rocks, and pansies and some succulents. And take it all to the church in the Starship Lo.Co.
My. However will it all be executed. And I'm still in my pj's. But to be fair, I've already baked the dessert for tonight's churchsupper (that I should have baked yesterday) and K.Lo was operating on a 2-hour delay for school. Because that's what we do every time a snowflake falls somewhere in the county (which is the size of Rhode Island! and therefore increases chances of snowflake delays). Also, I'm feeling all productive and hopeful about the second job I applied for, the envelope currently laying-in-wait in the mailbox, even though I feel like it will be a lucky break if they even glance at my application. But it's a library job, developing youth programs, and that would be kind of awesome, right?
Eventually employment will happen, according to the laws of odds, or so I keep telling myself. Will I be a Hardee's biscuit maker, or something more? it's out of my hands...
Coming soon: the blogpost about gremlin caterpillars.
love to you both across the seas,