One holiday: survived, though slightly worse for wear with a bruised hand, sore back, a severe case of narcolepsy and the same To Do List I've had for days and weeks. Playing in the annual Turkey Bowl will cause a couple of those symptoms but I should hardly blame the last two on the holiday because I am always tired - now that the days are a string of grey so is my mind and I don't want to do anything at all. Thus my hesitation in posting to Sonatina these days because no one really wants to read my whining which is exactly what I'm doing again, isn't it, so if you've read this far into another grumbling post, you deserve an alpaca photo.
Fed these guys (girls actually) for a friend over the weekend. I know you know they come in more colours than any other fiber producing animal, and that the shy little ones are called crias, but did you also know they hum?
If you did you may get bonus photos.
John was home for the week so it was not so dreary. It is a little funny any time he is here because all the little ones show off madly and vie for his venerated big brother attention, John John listen to this watch this!!, particularly the boys. O says it's because they haven't a father. When we are not mad at each other, things with John and I things are pretty simple. Always have been. He laughs at my jokes and I make him cake.
L of the Lovely Quarry Cliffs gave me a scarf on Thanksgiving, with a card that said HAPPY WINTER and a separate letter with a countdown on the envelope flap of the days left until she goes to Hawaii and leaves me to freeze to my lonesome death. I should hate her but can't afford it - besides, the scarf is pretty and brown and warm and Hawaii is probably way overrated anyway. I love my friends I love my friends I love them. If I ignore the countdown the letter was nice. We write often now. Even though we are only 7 numbers or a few miles apart, she is always going going and I am ever staying staying so we have to use every way we can to tie our separate days together, letters phone email and driving, so as not to grow up and apart. The letters I am most fond of. She says lately all my writing has been weird. She tells her Mum she has the weirdest friend ever. And her Mum says Who, Christina? because her Mum hasn't read my letters. Apparently what comes out in words with me is the weird thing, in person I am very ordinary. I only know I am trying to teach L things in all those writings, like colors and thee-soruses and imagination. She tries to teach me things too like never cry alone and how to live lightly and how to dress fashionably. Neither of us feel we're succeeding much.
Hope all had and will have a warm week.
This turned into maybe the nicest post I've written in a while. I guess we should all beware.