Taking stock

Mood: Ti-ired: my feet hurt
Hair: Still pretty curly (I love when it's conditioned and clean)

Long day. It's the end of the state library conference, so between that and a couple sick people, all week we've been a little short-staffed. I was on desk for four hours today, hence the sore feet.

Spent a lot of the time sorting my cart into what I can do immediately Tuesday morning, and what needs more attention than just call numbers (OCLC records downloaded, or created). So next week, I should (ha ha) be able to sit down and plow right through about 75 things first thing.
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The Beast is at his parents' house this weekend; he has a trade show about 100 miles south of there next week, so he's combining the obligations of work and parents. He really has wanted to check on his dad ever since he was in the hospital last month (or was that August...?). And Mom, of course, too. They are now saying that yes, she probably did have a stroke, but no, he probably didn't.

Sparky called me when the bus dumped him at home. No homework. He says. We'll see. He wasn't sure what to do next, since it's raining outside and that kind of puts a damper on hoops. So I suggested CivIII and he joyfully agreed: "I can do that?! Great, thanks Mom!" Sometimes being a parent is so bloody EASY! :-)

It's the Sparky and Cataloger show for the next six days. Should be interesting.

Thinkin' about going to the nearest PCUSA retreat center tomorrow for a Ren Fair-type thing, stopping by Old Navy on the way....Sunday is Communion, so I will probably make the bread tonight and take it to church on our way tomorrow....Church Sunday morning, youth group in the afternoon for Sparky....FOOTBALL!...Call my mom....Maybe do my Bible Study "homework"....Guess I should do some laundry....Clean the bathrooms....Read....CivIII, but I don't think I have time after looking over this 'graph.

So yeah, pretty thrilling life I lead. Maybe we'll go see a movie.
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From "An Invitation to Poetry"

Year That Trembled and Reel'd Beneath Me

Year that trembled and reel'd beneath me!
Your summer wind was warm enough--yet the air I breathed froze me;
A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken'd me;
Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself;
Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled?
And sullen hymns of defeat?

Harley Palmer

[my 1994-95]