10:27 PM as I start this, and good evening, all you Sunday night folk.
I have just finished watching Meet Me in St. Louis. For the first time in years.
I grinned all the way through it. It is wonderful fun, with song and dance and amusing, frothy, vibrant costumes, and I think Iapos;ve missed Judy Garland, as though she were a friend Iapos;d forgotten about, or a book I havenapos;t read in a long time. Now I must watch Wizard of Oz. Iapos;d been of a mind to do so anyway, since seeing WICKED, and then I read J.M. Barrieapos;s Peter Pan and wondered what I was missing. So there are all sorts of "childrenapos;s classics" I ought to give another go.
I got home around 2:30 from Barrington this afternoon. I put my things up, changed my clothes and set off an adventure. Now, when I am home here, I hardly have time to do anything but home things. If I go out, itapos;s because Iapos;m meeting someone, or in need of cream or honey. All time is strictly budgeted, and when it isnapos;t, I am not in the least compelled to leave my house, because I am hardly here anyway
But today the afternoon called to me. I knew my father was taking part in the CropWalk -- indeed, Iapos;d seen signs at many towns along the train stops announcing the CropWalk, and a prettier day for combating world hunger there just never was. In this spirit, and because it would be a shame to stay in, your stalwart heroine took the braids from her hair, put sandals on her feet, and went forth bravely
I decided it was high time to find my laundry mat.
I did, but it is EVER so far away. It will not be so far away with a bike. I am in the process of procuring one. Katieapos;s father picked one up at a police auction and likes to fix bikes for fun.
Apparently, lots of people do things like this for fun. Whoa. Itapos;s like when Samapos;s mom gave me those chairs (wonderful chairs Sturdy, curvy beautiful chairs) and told me I could sand and paint them myself, make a project out of it. She said this several times. And several times I told her, "Itapos;s a great idea, but I probably wonapos;t do it."
"It wouldnapos;t take much," she said.
"Yes," I said. I could feel my voice getting very gentle and stubborn, the way it does when I start to feel self-defensive about something I canapos;t possibly articulate. "But I wonapos;t do it. I know myself."
She looked at me, round-eyed. "Itapos;s amazing how different people are."
It looks so innocuous to see it in print. But there was a tone, you see. And Iapos;m sure I shrugged at the time, embarrassed, but obviously the conversation has stuck with me, and I am poking it to death, asking myself why I am not the sort of person who can sit down and sand something. Kiri can do it. (She can also - gasp - cover chairs and paint headboards and SEW) Katie builds bookshelves and crafts jewelry and fixes zippers... I think she can even attach buttons to various articles of clothing
There was a time someone taught me how to attach buttons. In fact, my Mima sent me a button I sewed onto a piece of cloth in preschool, behind glass, in a frame. Hard Evidence. Names and dates and everything. So I canapos;t say no one ever taught me. In fact, Iapos;ve taken several sewing classes, both recreationally and in college. But can I sew? Oh, no.
No, your mighty heroine, dear to all our hearts, has only passing knowledge of Needle. When Needle and I pass each other on the street, we nod coldly and sweep past each other, taking care not to brush even the flounces of our skirts. A perpetual and fascinating xenophobia.
But there you have it. My thing with time. I only have so much. And itapos;s not just a matter of sitting and painting chairs. Itapos;s a matter of finding my way to a Home Depot. This would involve several buses or trains, or tugging at a friendapos;s elbow sleeve until they give in and take me. Is this dignified? It is not. Then thereapos;s the whole picking out paint aspect. Itapos;s researching sealants and stuff (if thatapos;s even a word, sealant) and spending money on sandpaper and finding a newspaper to lay down on the kitchen floor AND THEN settling in to prep and paint, and what if I mess up, and who has the BUDGET for this sort of thing? Of time or bank account? And what if, in the end, I like the chairs better plain? And would I do this on a Sunday? A Monday? When my "days off" seem to be booked for the next two months?
Amazing. People who fix bikes and paint chairs = AMAZING. Yes, we are all different.
Back to my beautiful day. Because it was a beautiful day. So I walked. North to Lawrence, then east to 4400 where the library is, then 4100 where the laundromat is. The guy who owned it thought I was looking for a job when I said I was new to the neighborhood and was looking around. He expressed a certain reticent alarm. I hastened to reassure him.
On my way back home, I took neighborhoodly ways, with tangles and tangents and all the skeletons on the lawns, and excitable dogs, and yellow drifts of leaves. I was very happy.
Then I came home, and I was singing, "Capable, pliable women, women," that AWFUL funny song from A Little Night Music, and then I thought Iapos;d just throw open all the windows and lay in my bed for a while. And that turned into a delicious nap. I woke at seven, ate something, returned Tina Jensapos;s phone call -- which was a nice, hour-long sort of affair -- and then watched my movie.
And this merely the afternoon of my day. This morning, brunch with Gene and Rosemary Wolfe.
Gene: "Comedians always do what they think is funny. W.C. Fields started out as a juggler. So he likes to play fumble-fingered characters -- he thinks thatapos;s funny. Bob Hope, a man of steely courage, played cowards. Jack Benny, a warm, generous, open-fisted man, was always playing skinflints."
"Skinflint," I said. "I love that word. Hardly ever hear it aloud. Thatapos;s a great word."
"Itapos;s an old-fashioned word," said Rosemary.
"We should resurrect it"
"Thereapos;s also that saying," Gene put in, "apos;Heapos;d skin a flea for its hide and tallow.apos;"
Skinflint and Scapegrace. There was another word we went on about. Feel free, Reader, to add old-fashioned insults in our "comments" section.
We drank lots of champagne at brunch. And Gene called me a barbarian for taking cream in my tea. "Cream is for coffee," said he, and I said, "Why should you have all the fun, just because you drink coffee and I donapos;t?" He put a strawberry in my tea, then, out of mischief or because he was trying to lob it in my champagne, I do not know. I was away from the table at the time.
Lawrence Avenue is interesting; there is a Mexican food restaurant I wish to try. Most of that section of the street seems to be in Korean. Lots of empty storefronts and car washes and warehouses.
My next walk (maybe in another two and a half months) will be from my house to the Jefferson Park train platform. Itapos;d be nice to time it, just in case I donapos;t have money for the El some day.
It was really, really, REALLY nice to walk without a backpack or purse. I walk every day to the train, from the train to work, sometimes from work to the train, then from the train home. But Iapos;m always carrying something. Today I merely strung my house key on a black velvet ribbon round my neck, and set off, arms swinging freely.
Truly, a lovely day
date night zbt, date night yeah yeah yeahs, date night xi, date night themes, date night summer tour.
