Well, it’s going to be getting lighter every day from now on, which is a good thing. This has been a very dark winter solstice here at LivingSmall. Everyone warned me that the holidays would be hard, and they were right. I’m off today for Colorado, to spend the holidays with friends. I’ll be back next week.
-
-
I should have paid closer attention when I came home last night, but I’d been to a party and I figured the dogs had just been hanging out downstairs on the guest bed, because, well, it’s the guest bed. This morning, however, it was clear something was up. Raymond had been scratching at the door intermittently during the night, which was odd because he’s three, and long past not being able to make it through the night, and when I got up at seven-thirty, he bolted out the door in a way that isn’t typical for him. I was lettting…
-
I knew I was in trouble when I caught my connecting flight in Salt Lake last night and didn’t find out until I got on the plane that we might be diverted to Billings. Although cleaning out Patrick’s storage stuff wasn’t nearly as bad as I (or Sally, or Hippie) had feared, it was still exhausting and all I wanted was to get home, pick up my dogs, and spend the evening on the couch watching part 2 of Angels in America. Luckily, the storm lifted enough that we landed in Bozeman, where I found messages on my cellphone from…
-
Just a quick entry before I take off for California (to deal with Patrick’s two storage units). The Birthday Party was a wild success — everyone came, they ate almost all of the Ham As Big As Montana, they drank everything, and fun was had by all. Robert-the-Painter made three cakes — a tray of carrot cake cupcakes, a flourless chocolate cake, and a lovely lemon curd and blueberry tart. Jim and Geri and Tim and Linnea gave me a rhinestone tiara, which I may never take off. There was champagne. And then there was Julie, who I have known…
-
I turn 40 next week — on Wednesday, the 10th. Patrick and I talked a lot about what to do for my 40th — for a long time I wanted to go to Vegas for the National Finals Rodeo. As some of you know from earlier posts, I have a deep and abiding love of rodeo. The NFR is the rodeo of rodeos, and it’s in Las Vegas, a place so fabulously weird that it seemed appropos for a 40th birthday. But then I moved here, and I have so many nice friends that I didn’t want to trek to…