I am feeling a bit fluttery about Miss Margot’s operation today. She has a strong heart (Persians sometimes run to heart trouble) and her pre-op screen came back okay, but I’m still unhappy, and listening to her cry for her lost dinner and breakfast is making me sad. Wait til she comes home reeking of anaesthetic, loopy as all get out, while the boys gather round goggling at her. They’ll be happy to have her so subdued …. And so will the rest of us, she’s about to go into heat. (Noiser, more affectionate and really anxious to go out).
Jeff has just left with Miss Margot. There was a flaw in my cunning plan… I didn’t give him my credit card to pay for it all, so I think I will just go there at the end of the day and Jeff can drive us both home.
Mike called yesterday – STILL no action on the toof, now he has to go to a specialist and remain in agony for a while. Zut, alors! So he called me to tell him to call him and wake him up when I wake up and I said, “Daooooood!” (Dude, but exaggggerated). “I wake up between 4 am and 6 am every day. WHEN do you want the call?” and somewhat sheepishly he said, “Noon.” That’s more like it. Specificity with respect to wakeup call timing = goodness.
I will be trying to cadge a lift to Pondfilk 4 John.
Still haven’t booked the Hot Springs flights, hope to do that today. I mean to avoid Highway 4 if I can. Otherwise it’s a day’s journey…. no can stomach from this distance.
Saw Mongol last night. I really liked it.
Hymn to Pallas Athene (currently in use at Bryn Mawr!) If anybody’s wondering, it’s because it’s a call for light from an ancient deity and that’s just, well, cool. Also it’s nice to hear something resembling Greek rather than that fake stuff you hear in Buffy all the time. And it’s all women’s voices (everyoneceinawhile my crypto feminist hauls herself out of her, well, crypt, and longs for girly ownly space). And I’d like to have it in church someday, because it specifically requests wisdom and light. Very, very U*U.
I just deleted many paragraphs that really belong in a private journal. Don’t crowd me, don’t all thank me at once. Inner voice, inner voice.
