Wednesday, December 16, 2009

giggle, layers, nose bag

*I don't look forward to a trip to the dentist (even for a mere cleaning) but the lounge/exam chair is so comfy and the view through the austere (no fancy drapery) window of the mountains is lovely. Then the dentist and his assistant begin singing along to the radio tunes and I can hardly keep from giggling. Try to suppress a giggle with your mouth yawning wide and ten fingers (someone else's) inside.

*Marveling again how the mountains and foothills present themselves in layers:scrub bushes dusted with snow,then purple-grey and on to the tallest blanketed in thick white.

*Finally having oatmeal breakfast to a chorus of the dog crunching a mid-morning snack. "Oh, if you're going to eat I'll have a little something, too."

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

biscuits, soup, back

*Warm biscuits made from scratch with...

*Leek-potato-broccoli soup and...

*a returned hero.

Saturday, December 12, 2009

sketching, flakes, fraps

*Kate sketches me without me noticing.

*We cut out snowflakes together--the method returning after years of neglect.

*I make fraps but am so involved in the conversation that I forget to put in the sugar.

Saturday, December 5, 2009

packet, literate, watch

*I receive a thick packet from the National Archives.I had been cautioned that the process of finding the file I wanted, copying it and sending it might take 6 months but it has only been 6 weeks. When I open the envelope I am transported back to 1871 when ancestors filed legal papers to enable them to receive a pension of their son mortally wounded in the War of the Rebellion. I learn they could not read or write, they are destitute. Their son was their sole support. And I learn that Joseph was wounded in both knees at the Battle of Missionary Ridge in late November, 1863, and died in a field hospital in Chatanooga on December 13. To know what happened to him is a mother's relief.

*To be able to read and write, to have been taught as a young girl.

*I leave Zed's watch to be cleaned and repaired. "I will always take care of you" I whisper.