Oh--I have been a very absent blogger these past three weeks.
As always, I could offer many excuses--but instead will just try to quickly fill in the blanks--and I'll even back-date--due to my compulsion to create a chronological narrative.
George arrived Tuesday morning for some siding preparation I had been planning to drive to the city on Wednesday as I'd offered to do some minimal afternoon babysitting for Josie and Si, but when Alexandra called to verify all plans early Tuesday afternoon, she urged me to come for dinner that night--and, not needing much encouragement, I accepted. Lots of house cleaning and refrigerator emptying before I left. My biggest concern (oh the things that take up space in my brain) was that I would be missing garbage pick-up on Friday. To avoid piles of garbage in kitchen, I packed the freezer with garbage bags while in my ceaseless effort to avoid abandoning food in the fridge, I packed a cooler with excellent left-overs and farm fresh produce.
I had planned to return books to the library, but given the slow pace of all things decided instead to re-new on line. A small note on what's can be considered transgressive behavior these days. Due perhaps to my flawed enunciation, or the librarian's failing hearing, it was necessary for me to spell out my last name--G as in girl, etc. B as in bomb, said I. "Did you say bomb?" she asked incredulously, as if I had threatened an act of terror. When I admitted I had, she could not stop laughing--who would have guessed that a Sussex County library patron would take such risks?
"Thanks for the endorphins," she said, as we finished our transaction. It didn't occur to her to turn me in.
I left home around 4pm--the drive was easier than expected, even across Manhattan and arrived in time for promised splendid dinner. My babysitting hours were quite limited(2:30-5, Wed-Fri) allowing me to take care of bits and pieces of miscellaneous New York business.
The first task of my New York day, was the acquisition of a half price Metro card. There are all sorts of internet instructions, but the most direct method involved a trip to downtown Manhattan where, minutes from the ever-traumatized Wall Street, I got to stand on a number of relatively quickly moving lines, sit on some government issue hard plastic seats, get my picture taken with even less time for primping than at the DMV.
I was rewarded with a card that wil serve the function of a Matro Card--but alerts the machine to charge just half prce for each ride purchased. That is the good news. The bad news is that boldly printed across the front of the card are the words Senior Citizen. As my friend Gail pointed out, our youth-clinging cohort never quite noticed that we were middle-aged (though others certainly did)--and now--here we are unavoidably Seniors. Like all age-related observations--this comes as a complete surprise.
As always, I could offer many excuses--but instead will just try to quickly fill in the blanks--and I'll even back-date--due to my compulsion to create a chronological narrative.
George arrived Tuesday morning for some siding preparation I had been planning to drive to the city on Wednesday as I'd offered to do some minimal afternoon babysitting for Josie and Si, but when Alexandra called to verify all plans early Tuesday afternoon, she urged me to come for dinner that night--and, not needing much encouragement, I accepted. Lots of house cleaning and refrigerator emptying before I left. My biggest concern (oh the things that take up space in my brain) was that I would be missing garbage pick-up on Friday. To avoid piles of garbage in kitchen, I packed the freezer with garbage bags while in my ceaseless effort to avoid abandoning food in the fridge, I packed a cooler with excellent left-overs and farm fresh produce.
I had planned to return books to the library, but given the slow pace of all things decided instead to re-new on line. A small note on what's can be considered transgressive behavior these days. Due perhaps to my flawed enunciation, or the librarian's failing hearing, it was necessary for me to spell out my last name--G as in girl, etc. B as in bomb, said I. "Did you say bomb?" she asked incredulously, as if I had threatened an act of terror. When I admitted I had, she could not stop laughing--who would have guessed that a Sussex County library patron would take such risks?
"Thanks for the endorphins," she said, as we finished our transaction. It didn't occur to her to turn me in.
I left home around 4pm--the drive was easier than expected, even across Manhattan and arrived in time for promised splendid dinner. My babysitting hours were quite limited(2:30-5, Wed-Fri) allowing me to take care of bits and pieces of miscellaneous New York business.
The first task of my New York day, was the acquisition of a half price Metro card. There are all sorts of internet instructions, but the most direct method involved a trip to downtown Manhattan where, minutes from the ever-traumatized Wall Street, I got to stand on a number of relatively quickly moving lines, sit on some government issue hard plastic seats, get my picture taken with even less time for primping than at the DMV.
I was rewarded with a card that wil serve the function of a Matro Card--but alerts the machine to charge just half prce for each ride purchased. That is the good news. The bad news is that boldly printed across the front of the card are the words Senior Citizen. As my friend Gail pointed out, our youth-clinging cohort never quite noticed that we were middle-aged (though others certainly did)--and now--here we are unavoidably Seniors. Like all age-related observations--this comes as a complete surprise.
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