Susan Dennis (susandennis) wrote,
Susan Dennis

Loved as a food source

Zoey just hopped up here and gave me a bunch of face nuggies while purring up a storm. Awwww she loves me. Awww she loves me because she knows this will get old in a minute and I'll realize it's Zoey-speak for BREAKFAST, please. Hey, she could just claw me until I feed her. Purring nuggies are way better.

Today is a totally free day. No plans, no promises, no commitments, no baseball. After I finish internetting, I'll get dressed. After that, there's no telling what could happen.

Last night I discovered a major error in my crocheting. I could have worked around it but I decided to rip it out instead. Ripping out knitting is a double major pain in the ass. You have to get it off the needles, rip carefully so you don't over rip and be very careful not to lose stitches ad then get it back onto the needles without twisting stitches. Crochet, you just rip til you get past the bad then start again. Easy peasy. So that's what I did. I ripped out about half of it and started again.

Yesterday Today
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In the mail today (foretold by that fun USPS email 'here's what we're bringing you today') is a family reunion newsletter.

I have no family. I have my brother, an estranged sister, a cousin who does not communicate and, really, that's it. That's all there is. Except.

My maternal grandmother's father (my great grandfather) had a bunch of brothers and sisters and they bought a plot of land in Caddo Gap, Arkansas. It has rough cabins on it and LOTS o' chiggers and mosquitoes. Every year, around the 4th of July, a bunch of the descendants of those brothers and sisters gather for 3 or 4 days of really horrible food and bugs. And every year, one of them puts out a 1970's style newsletter asking for donations to keep the place going.

About 40 years ago, for reasons that now escape me, my Mom and I went. I found out that 1. One of those descendants is/was a country music singer named Joe Diffie 2. The woods of Arkansas in July is the antithesis of where I ever want to be ever. 3. Three days of potluck in the woods is three days too many. Mom and I slept at a nearby motel - the finest in the area. Keep in mind 'finest' is a relative term.

But, that is how I got on the mailing list for the newsletter. I have no idea how you get off. My Mom died in 1999. I wonder if she's still getting her copy.

Spring is here. I do appreciate the gradual change. I no longer come home from the gym in the pitch dark. It's now 8:45 and it's 65 degrees in this living room. Later today it might reach 70 but won't go higher. A gentle delivery to the hell that is Summer.
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