These were the whateverthehelltheywere's on the tracks yesterday. Does anyone know what they are and what they do? Each one was manned, ready to go and I never did see what they did but I am sure they must have done something. The work continues on the railroad and the scent of creosote still fills the air and today the smell of asphalt joined it in a delightfully toxic salad of stink.
Oh well, in a a few years I am sure that the odor will dissipate.
Two more pictures from yesterday which feature my grandson, Owen.
Here he's helping his Boppy by removing switch plates in preparation for painting.
And here he is with the darling Lenore, his tiny cousin. Check out those high heels. Lenore adores Owen and why wouldn't she? He and Gibson both love her too.
My phone yesterday would not send my pictures to my email account which is how I get them on my computer. Is there an easier way? Probably. This method usually works fine but for reasons unknown to me (genie in the phone?) sometimes it just does not. And then a few hours later, or the next day, they will suddenly appear in my email inbox. A few days ago I got a text from a friend with a picture and I responded to the picture and she was like, "What the fuck? Where did THAT come from?" So it turns out that she sent the picture about three days before it got to me and she had forgotten by then that she'd sent it and my text, which was completely appropriate for someone who had just gotten that picture, sounded completely insane.
Again- phone genie?
Oh who knows?
As I predicted this morning, it has been a full day and now I am about to make our supper which means that bedtime is in sight. I do not feel especially depressed but I sure do want to sleep a lot. Maybe I'm just tired. Lily and I were discussing tiredness today and how it seems to run in our family. "We're tireder than most people," she said.
I can't help but agree with her.
Yet we function, we manage to keep going for approximately sixteen hours a day (okay, let's be honest- less for me) but we sure do love to sleep. You guess that's genetic? Everydamnthing else is. I look at people who brag/complain about only needing four or five hours a sleep a night and think, "Jesus. What is wrong with you?"
Be we are all different and I am no longer ashamed of my need for lots of sleep. I love to go to bed, to relax down into the bedclothes, knowing that for awhile I will be practically unconscious and that the world can go on without me for a spell. I mean, it is simply my favorite moment of the day. So what? At least I get to experience it once a day. Two if I'm lucky and get a nap.
So. That's my report for the day.
Oh. Here's one more picture.
Boiling eggs, both chicken and duck for the egg salad sandwiches to be served on Saturday. And yes, Dear Jo, I do feel like Kathleen is contributing to her own memorial service in a very real and tangible and lovely way.
And I think she would like that.
Be well, sleep sweetly.