Yesterday morning I was running late (again) because just as I was ready to leave the house, with plenty of time to spare for a leisurely walk to work, I COULD NOT find my reading glasses. I looked in every room on every surface, and they were nowhere. Even Dave got enlisted in the effort. I could go to work without them, but that would consign me to a full day of squinting and asking other people to read things to me, and I'd rather not deal with that kind of dependence.
Finally, after about 15 minutes of searching, I realized I'd made the bed over top of them -- and then sat on them while putting on my socks. They were fine, but by that time the opportunity for a leisurely walk was gone and I had to take the tube.
I stood next to the guy in the photo above. I surreptitiously took a couple of pictures to show his tattooed hands. He's like a character from that Kenny Rogers song -- does he know when to hold 'em, and know when to fold 'em? Or maybe Steve Miller. Does he speak of the pompatus of love? (OK, that song's not about cards, but it makes me think of cards.)
I went out again with the librarians last night on yet another end-of-school-year pub gathering, this one for a couple of longtime library volunteers who unfortunately weren't able to work with us much this year. I have three more end-of-year social events coming up next week.
Meanwhile, I have worked harder this week than I believe I have ever worked in the library, shifting and weeding books and reorganizing shelves and checking things out. There is literally not a spare moment to sit down. I am so ready for the weekend, not to mention the summer.
There were more slugs (and one big ol' snail!) on my wildflower seedlings this morning. I'll have to consider other deterrents besides the copper slug rings (and I appreciate all your earlier suggestions). My question is, how do wildflowers in the wild ever grow? I guess they're not all concentrated in the same place so the slugs slither past without noticing them. Or maybe nine out of ten get eaten. Who knows.
"Oi! What ye doing weirdo? Surreptitiously taking pictures of me 'and! Are ye a perv or somefink? I 'ad them tattoos done when I was in The Scrubs for GBH! Now it's your turn! Come 'ere!"
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I wonder if that guy is a professional gambler...Glad your glasses weren't smashed.
ReplyDeleteI often find tattoos to be sexy. Not those. I’m assuming that guy doesn’t know when to hold em, know when to fold em, or he wouldn’t be on the bus.
ReplyDeleteI’m about ready to throw in the trowel on three of our five hibiscuses. Wildflowers they are not.
Hope today’s a better day than yesterday, although it sounds like there won’t be better days until the work is done.
So many of the houses in my neighborhood have beautiful hibiscus. Something keeps eating the flowers on mine. I despair.
ReplyDeleteHaving tattoos of my own, I feel like I'm being kind of snobby by not liking hand and face and neck tattoos, but I just cannot help myself.
ReplyDeleteAll I can think about with those tattoos is OUCH. That seems like a painful place to get a tattoo.
ReplyDeleteSome of our wildflowers have some sort of blight. I think they'll still bloom, but the stems have all turned brown. It happened last year too. We might have to burn everything & salt the earth! (Just being a wee dramatic.)
"The pompatus of love..."
ReplyDeleteWhat does that mean? An eternal mystery. I sort of like those tattoos. I admire ink on other people but have no real desire to get any myself.
Your life sounds extremely busy right now! Your summer break can't come too soon.
I had to google "pompatus of love" to see where that came from. Oy. I've never heard that before, the song or the word. Interesting how a tattoo can spark connections.
ReplyDeleteGlad you found your glasses, and soon your summer break will be here. Yay!
little bitty snails are still a scourge here. now that I'm developing cataracts and my eyesight has improved I don't need reading glasses anymore unless I'm really tired and the light is low but I spent a lot of time searching for them when I did need them.
ReplyDeleteSlugs find our yards a great place to live. I cleaned out junk like old board on the ground which give slugs a perfect home. The next year I had less slugs and now I don't see them.
ReplyDeleteThat photo did make me think of that Kenny Rogers song. I'm kind of hoping it doesn't get stuck in my head now.
ReplyDeleteI was about to say that slugs are not a problem here but some 25 years ago I lived in a house in Mesa where I found a few. They would leave trails across my patio. But, I haven't seen any since.
I always thought they were singing, "prophetess of love"! which doesn't make more sense either! I do that with a lot of songs - sing away with the wrong lyrics! LOL!
ReplyDeleteYou will love your break!
You were lucky that your glasses did not break. I only take my glasses off to wash or sleep. That way I can't lose them. Otherwise, I'd never find them. You have a super day, hugs, Edna B.
ReplyDeleteYour beach body will be all ready by the time your vacation comes!
ReplyDeleteGlad you found your glasses..I am lucky to have three pairs thanks to the generosity of my optician...before he moved he made sure I had one for best and two smaller lighter pairs..so that I don't have to panic hunt for them...I mean you couldn't mislay three pairs...could you?
ReplyDeletei was looking up prison tattoos last week and this one came up- a favorite amongst Russian gamblers in prison
ReplyDeleteI hate hand tattoos almost as much as piercings
ReplyDeleteI am pretty tolerant of all sorts of body decoration but hand tattoos are rather ugly in my opinion.
ReplyDeleteI believe the tats are to compliment the article he's reading.
ReplyDeleteYou life as a school librarian sounds active, cerebral, social and always interesting. Who knew when your were toiling in the editorial trenches of the New York Times that this was in your future, and that it would feel so right. You make me want to be a school librarian! My daughter says only incurious dogs can be trusted off leash. Not sure if she's correct, perhaps even curious dogs can be trained thus, but give me a curious dog like Olga any day.
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