All Talk No Action

I really can't think of anything in particular that I got done today, but I feel like I had a lot of conversations. This is what winter is like. The days just wander by.  I woke up at 6:30, which was two hours later than recent mornings (we are still trying to find our way back to this time zone -- my friend Nancy says we are probably still somewhere over the Atlantic).  Just a few minutes later Jon called from Shreveport, so that was my first conversation of the day.

And then I somehow just got caught in that slow-moving stream of emails, messages, computer fussing, which is another form of conversation, responding to this and that.  I had intended to go swimming but then Jon had got it into my head that I should go check things at the farm, but before I went outside I started to make some soup and cornbread, and then it was already 11 AM.

I went to the farm and filled some buckets with water so the people in the greenhouse would have an easier time (the pipes are frozen and the chief plumber is many miles away and the ground is frozen anyway so repairs have to wait). Saw Michael Lipsky, talked shop. Chased some geese.

Then off for a mammogram at Kaiser. I haven't gone to any doctor in at least a year, which seems kind of amazing.  Anyway, that took about 22 minutes and then I came back home for Wednesday Lunch with Betsy.  We had just seen each other last night at Book Club, here in this house, so it wasn't like we had a lot of catching up to do -- but we always have plenty to talk about. There's always the Blueberry Hill gossip.

Then the solar panel guy came by to answer my questions -- he said we are all set and we can claim the whole tax refund in 2015, no problem, and there is no more work that needs to happen.  We have 25 solar panels on our roof that were installed in September but not hooked up until February (very frustrating), but now they are generating electricity.  Very exciting.

After that I took chili and cornbread and soup to a choir friend whose fiance fell on ice about 6 weeks ago and is very slowly recovering from a head and back injury.  The choir friend, Elise, and I went out for coffee/tea while her fiance was having some physical therapy -- she needed to get out of their apartment for a bit. We don't socialize, really, but I can certainly sympathize with her need for a little air after all that intensive caregiving.  They were supposed to get married at the end of this month but they have postponed (Elise says they are going to white-out the date on their already printed invitations...).

Stopped by the greenhouse to say hello to Ashley who was seeding some chard and cabbage.  The greenhouse is the ONLY place that looks like we are on track to have a farm season.  Outdoors is mud and snow and ice, a big mess. In the greenhouse the plants are growing well, sturdy and green, nearly oblivious to the world outside now that my mother has wrestled the furnace into submission.  Or at least cajoled it, through many visits from the service guy.

Carrie came to visit in the greenhouse too -- she just got back from a visit with her mother in upstate New York.  Carrie is now 12 weeks pregnant and we are allowed to tell other people. It is going to be great, having another baby around eventually.  Carrie has a long hot summer in front of her.

I had a phone interview with a young lady in New Hampshire at 5:00.  She will tell me by March 13 if she wants to work here.  Her name is Hannah. I don't know if we have ever hired a Hannah before.

I heard our neighbor Noel in the parking lot scraping ice with a shovel so I went out to see if he needed some help. After about 3 minutes I decided to go get the loader. It was not the perfect tool for breaking up solid ice but I gradually got better at taking bites out of the packed surface.  We didn't finish, but we got the parking lot much more ready for the next snow, coming tonight.

And then after I had a quick dinner I reluctantly took myself over to the temple (oh yes, Alissa called me, delaying my departure) for the Purim service.  Ever since our children grew up, I have stopped having any interest at all in Purim. It is not a holiday that speaks to me in the least. It is noisy, noisy, silly, the story isn't great, the costumes are irrelevant, and I just feel like a curmudgeon. I also feel like the people who are leading the celebration aren't very interested either. It all feels fake.  I arrived a half hour after everything started, sat down next to Nancy and Nell who were ready to leave by then, and we quietly escaped before the improv skit was done (boring).

See? The day just goes by so fast.  Not counting computer/texting conversations (with Sarah Bansen, Benjamin, multiple CSA customers, Ellen, etc.) I had a total of 13 different human interactions (not counting the geese, I mean).  I didn't even have time to practice piano, which is ridiculous because I have this entire house to myself.

It is supposed to snow all day tomorrow so I can practice all day long (ha).