April 23, 2003
One of the nicest things about Rob and I both working from home much of the time is that we can spend our lunch breaks any way we like. While I wouldn't care to offer a fuller description than that, I can tell you this: today we lay in our warm duvet-wrapped nest, shoulders entwined, and talked for more than an hour. Outside, the harsh grey sky thinned and brightened to a bright cloudless blue, which exactly mirrored my mood.
In the One Good Turn Deserves Another department, I caused a bouquet of lovely spring flowers to be delivered to Emma's workplace today. It was kind of strange when the saleslady asked over the phone if the delivery address was a business, and if so what it was called, and all I could say was that it was a government office of some sort. No, my dear friend is not a spy (at least, I don't think she is...) but, strange to say, I don't know exactly what it is she does, except that it has to do with computers. Which sure doesn't narrow it down much, does it?
It's long been my cherished belief that having flowers delivered is one of the best things in the world, better than chocolate, better than... well, fill in your own blank here. I love it when it happens to me, which isn't all that terribly often (though every day might not be often enough!) and love almost as much to make it happen for people I care about. So there.
Our winter was especially onerous this year. I'd say that it was "bad", but that doesn't cover it. More vowels, more syllables. It went on too long. There were inpenetrable ice storms. There was snow for days. It was really, really cold. There was supreme suckage, my friends. Onerous!
So even though I burble on just about every year about how wonderful Spring is, and believe me it deserves to be capitalised, it's even more desperately welcome this year.
Not that it's actually here, all the way. We had an incredible day last week where the humidex put the temperature over 30 Celsius (no I don't know what that is in the old-fashioned scale) which was hot enough to need air-conditioning in the car. Today, it's 4 degrees, far below seasonal normals. Not likin' this.
But the grass has become green, almost overnight after the warm Easter weekend. And our hedges have the most delicate filigree of buds, fresh gorgeous green!
Soon the collection of sticks waving outside our bedroom window will become a real tree, with shade and birds and everything. I'll be able to plant all the pots I've been slowly collecting in the garden shed. Yes! This is the year! We have a composter, we have a push-mower, and we're going to have a garden.
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Speaking of growing things, my hair is getting long. Longer than it's been in years. And it's getting really *red* too. One of these things I do all by myself. Heck, I can do it in my sleep! The other requires an infusion of cash, but just ask Rob- it's money well spent. He loves the length, the colour, the everything. And I love finally having a good, trustworthy, friendly hairstylist who knows what she's doing. For years, I had the worst luck keeping stylists. They'd leave the salon, the business, or the country- and in one tiresome instance, just me, being as it was a friends-picking-sides-in-a-breakup issue. But finally! There is Lita. And yea verily, Cameron rejoiced.
All this trouble for hair that I refuse to spend more than a few minutes on, and even then only when necessary.
Is it true that there are Southern wives who wake up an hour before their husbands, so they can be all teased and back-combed and lacquered to perfection before he sees them? Yowza!
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Despite the fact that nothing I tried on fit me yesterday, that didn't stop me from scooping up the Easter goodies on sale at the supermarket. For a mere 49 cents, a bag of Cadbury Eggies, which are robin's-egg tiny, a thin sugar shell over solid milk chocolate. Here's a happy tip: leave them in the sun, and insides get smooth and melted. Just remember to eat all in one big naughty bite, or it could get pretty messy.
Hey, you're welcome.
