Hair! (I’m told it’s kid of cute.)
We’d planned on a productive busy-busy-busy day. Here’s how it’s gone so far.
I was up at 7:30, walking Ms. S. by 7:45. Had a bowl of cereal and then sat down at the computer to do a bit of house-related work. Woke J. up just before 9am.
We headed over to the gym in time for me to go to an aqua aerobics class — my first actual class! (The instructor didn’t show up the last time I went, and I hadn’t made it back since then.) J. played racquetball with his friend S. while I had one of the most physically demanding while feeling easy classes of my life. I actually didn’t finish the class, because I worried a bit that I might overdo it after having done so very little for so very long, so I only went 45 mins. When I got out, I could barely stand, I was so tired!
Then J. and I decided to go check out the new house. Looks good (pics posted soon!) — the floors were still covered, but the appliances, faucets, and sinks were all installed. The landscaping was complete. Even better: the whole place was painted and the sills were installed. It’s really coming together.
We were starving by then (~1pm) so we went to lunch at L Hacienda. Yummy steak fajitas for J. and super yummy chicken mole for me. We were home by 2:15pm.
J. decided to take Ms. S. for her afternoon swim, but the usual spot was covered with fisherpeople, so he had to go to the backup place, which is a lot further away.
It’s 4:15 and we’re finally starting to tackle my list of 20+ to dos. By 6pm more than half were done. So we are in good shape for tomorrow (packing the den, under the sinks, finishing my office, and a few odds n ends).
Now we’re off to a friend’s place to celebrate HIS housewarming.
Oh — and here’s the latest look for me:
I’ve got cowlicks and everything!
2010 has been a crap of a year so far. Actually, my 42nd year has pretty much sucked. The proof is that I was told I have breast cancer about a week after my 42nd birthday.
It just hasn’t stopped.
We went to Ashland this last weekend, rented a house with friends; saw some plays, ate yummy food, drank yummy wine, and had excellent conversations. I also fell down, hard, and am currently nursing a sprained ankle OR a broken bone in my foot. (I’ll know the x-ray results tomorrow.)
Sasha is going to see a neurologist next week so we can find out (hopefully) what is wrong with her.
On top of all of that is the really sad news: my grandmother is dying. Its my father’s mother and although it isn’t entirely unexpected, it is still a surprise. She is in a skilled nursing unit, and being seen by hospice services. She is mostly very comfortable, but unaware of her surroundings. She will not recover, her death is inevitable, and I’m very sad.
So, I’m ok; it’s just still a bit of a unsettled life ’round here.
Thanks in large part to these racquetball blog posts, Terry (Lisa’s father) has expressed an interest in playing together when he came out to help with Lisa’s chemo recovery. “How nice,” thought I, “a little guy bonding with my quasi-kinda-father-in-law. Surely great strides in mutual understanding and respect will result from this adventure. Why, in the afterglow of the manly rites of physical contest, we might just come to see one another as family!”
History is rife with stories of fathers who disapprove of their daughters’ choice of mate. They’ve imprisoned the daughters, smothered them, had the men assassinated or transported to Australia… but never, NEVER, has a father tried to cause a fatal brain hemorrhage with a well-placed racquetball.