Monday morning -- freelance style
I should be in bed. But I don't have to get up at 6, so I'm not. And I had to pack for Robert's brother's wedding. It's outside, in a backyard in New Hampshire. There are bbqs, a skull-and-crossbone tie-wearing groom, in-laws, pig roasts and New England night temperatures to consider. Those are things I seldom consider when dressing, so it took some time.
Jeff, the brother, is doing the 7.7.07 wedding thing. It's his third wedding -- but really he and this wife already officially got married, so this lucky pig roast thing (not so lucky for the pig) is really just for show. But most weddings are. Why am I writing more about a backyard wedding than I did my own?
I should be in bed. It's 1:23 a.m (ignore my time stamp, i romantically set it at Indiana time and it's one hour behind, I shall change it).
Maybe I'm just stalling because I don't want to tell Winky I cheated on him while I was off the blog. I didn't want to, believe you me, but here's one of the oddest upsides of being married to someone who works for AARP. Two days after your friend dies, AARP-employeed spouse comes home and says, "I met with a Web vendor today whose company does online memorials."
And in this f-uped year, and especially in that gray, gross f-uped blurry week, that bit of information was completely relevant and helpful.
Here's the upside of being married to Robert: He sat it all up. And unable to write a headline or edit any stories at work that week, I put by production skills to work tribute writing, candle lighting, slideshow making and "share this site with a friend"ing.
Enough already, here it is:
I've also been doing some old-fashioned blogging-- I like to call it MicrosoftWording. Actually I don't like to call it that for obvious reasons, but still that's what it is, keeping an ongoing journal offline in my Documents folder. Documenting? Menting? It's like journaling, I guess, but without a trip to barnes and nobles for the moleskin. Oh, yes, I think it's commonly referred to as writing, for those brave enough to own up to it.
I should go to bed.
Perhaps I'll bring the document to life on here, if Winky doesn't mind the complete detour froom cycle talk. I am still riding, but not to work, in fact, I ride away from work around 10, so I don't have as many Share the Road tirades to go on or bike-lane runners to go off on.
I am going to bed. As soon as I turn in this grandma as primary caregiver story.
Funny, my grandmas weren't really even secondary caregivers to me. Nice lady to visit in town, always good for Club crackers (stale), a spritz of Miss Breck hairspray,a two-week old People and a visual reminder of why I stay up late and worry constantly. (grandma payton would just be starting a crossword at this hour) That's just the one. The other requires much more introspection than I can muster right now.
But both would tell me to go bed.