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I keep beginning entries and then abandoning them halfway through due to interruption or moods of futility, which of course gets me nowhere, so -- here we are.
I had brunch with a friend yesterday, pleasant but it had a sense of duty hanging over it; she is very busy and I think was checking me off the list rather than fully wanting to be there, which I understand entirely and do not hold against her but I felt the weight of it when usually together we are very light. I liked the restaurant and I think I may go there Friday, for brunch with a different friend, although it depends much upon the air quality which has taken a turn for the worse due to the far-away fires.
Once home from yesterday's brunch I cleaned off my desk (yet again) and put together boxes of outgrown children's clothes to donate and added in some books I no longer need (which does not keep up with the influx coming in from Powell's but it is a gesture in that direcction) and cuddled the cat extensively as he insisted upon being in my lap with an arm around him -- if I am on the bed he is content to lie his head on my hip but when I am at my desk he wants to be held. In fact as I am typing this he is in my lap, his bottom half resting on my thighs but his top half across one of my arms and he is rubbing his head against my sweater and purring loudly and occasionally kneading my stomach as though I could possibly forget he is present. Adorable and obnoxious in equal measure and sooner or later I must dislodge him or we will be like this until 2pm and I will wonder why it is I have gotten nothing done today.
Girl Scouts has been very very good with the girls and fairly terrible with some of the adults, but I grit my teeth and carry on as the good with the girls does make up for it and possibly I can gently inspire the adults to focus their energies in some other direction? It is a long-term strategy at least.
I have given up balancing the cat and just rolled him onto his back and am holding him like an infant while rubbing his stomach. His ears are offended, but when I try to stop rubbing he very carefully pulls my hand back against him and encourages me to rub more, so I suppose the pleasure is winning out over the dignity -- an experience I am altogether familiar with.
I had brunch with a friend yesterday, pleasant but it had a sense of duty hanging over it; she is very busy and I think was checking me off the list rather than fully wanting to be there, which I understand entirely and do not hold against her but I felt the weight of it when usually together we are very light. I liked the restaurant and I think I may go there Friday, for brunch with a different friend, although it depends much upon the air quality which has taken a turn for the worse due to the far-away fires.
Once home from yesterday's brunch I cleaned off my desk (yet again) and put together boxes of outgrown children's clothes to donate and added in some books I no longer need (which does not keep up with the influx coming in from Powell's but it is a gesture in that direcction) and cuddled the cat extensively as he insisted upon being in my lap with an arm around him -- if I am on the bed he is content to lie his head on my hip but when I am at my desk he wants to be held. In fact as I am typing this he is in my lap, his bottom half resting on my thighs but his top half across one of my arms and he is rubbing his head against my sweater and purring loudly and occasionally kneading my stomach as though I could possibly forget he is present. Adorable and obnoxious in equal measure and sooner or later I must dislodge him or we will be like this until 2pm and I will wonder why it is I have gotten nothing done today.
Girl Scouts has been very very good with the girls and fairly terrible with some of the adults, but I grit my teeth and carry on as the good with the girls does make up for it and possibly I can gently inspire the adults to focus their energies in some other direction? It is a long-term strategy at least.
I have given up balancing the cat and just rolled him onto his back and am holding him like an infant while rubbing his stomach. His ears are offended, but when I try to stop rubbing he very carefully pulls my hand back against him and encourages me to rub more, so I suppose the pleasure is winning out over the dignity -- an experience I am altogether familiar with.
