Stuff

The Mood, The Grump

At work today, I went "ahem". And I felt this wave of tiredness and I thought, oh, bugger, I'm getting sick. The grump is partly due to envy at other people's erupting successes, but most of it is due to getting a touch of a bug. As tired as Queen Mediocretia, that's how tired. But with none of the ugh accompanying hers.

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The Folly of Doing Good

Wes is back. The doctors peaked around and said, "Yep, that stuff is still weird and still growing. Ya feeling okay?" And Wes said yes.

I went to BJs last week and treated myself to a crate (15 count) of pears. They were perfectly ripe and perfectly delicious. Wes and I were talking about pears and he told me he liked them. The next day, I brought in a pear for him and a pear for me. My desk is in Peru and his is in New Jersey, so it was sort of a "treat of the day" kind of thing as long as the pears were good. Alas, the pears are now past their prime.

He stopped me in the hall today and said, "It's my turn now, but you know, I'm no good at that kind of thing, picking up fruit or tasty whatever." He reached for his wallet.

"Whoa," I said. "I'll pick up stuff the next time at BJs. Why don't I find out how much it is and you can pitch in?"

He agreed to that and told me the only things he disliked are brussels sprouts, garlic, mushrooms, and green peppers.

So now my quest is to find cheap 'taste of the day' things for Wes and me.

I get to work much earlier than he does and I think he likes coming in to find a nice little surprise on his desk. So much that he's willing to pay for it. And who am I to say no to a guy who's got mere months to live? Can I really let him die without tasting ube pie? In good conscience, I cannot.

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Dylan Splits Infinity

I have a new toy for the cats. I have it in this configuration. The cats love it. Desperately. Dylan especially loves it and I caught him standing guard over it this morning.

But it was too late when I got home last night. The tracks that fit together don't stand up to a determined geezer cat or a 15 lb. dynamo. (BTW, cat at the left looks a lot like Sophie, who is also a big fan of the toy.)

This little "infinity" arrangement of the track had fallen apart and the tiny ball was gone, gone, gone. As entertaining as the toy is, I'm beginning suspect that the real scheme behind this is to sell balls. Luckily, I had another one in a round toy that I put in the infinity toy this morning and took it out before I left. When I got home tonight, Dylan was smack in the middle of the toy and all the pieces were scattered. I've probably got a career ahead of me putting this thing back together. It looks like I really am the mistress of time and space after all.