My stomach hurts so bad from laughing, it reminds me of the day after you've had the flu. I beat Abby four times in a row at Battleship (she was sticking with a definite swastika-like pattern) and then she won the fifth at the last move, although I had hit four boats in the first seven tries (she had them massed at the center), the two-boat proved elusive. At one point, she refused to either confirm or deny the hit. Tricky. Then I stole her bed-buddy and hid with Rachael's birds in the office. Otis tried to nose me out and I kept laughing, but I did get Abby to run up and down the stairs three times.
Everyone is home from college, the t.v. in the family room has popped something and died, so Daddy and Sam are downstairs watching football. It is freezing outside, and although the Post called it "Snowvember" (really?), it has yet to snow more than 2-3". The upstairs is cold, the downstairs is cold, the bed-buddies are in all-day use.
I took Sam, Rachael and Abby on Friday to Target. They ran around like puppies at the dog food factory; I headed to other aisles to get away from them. It was a veritable gluttony: Lucky Charms, Cocoa Krispies, sweet pickles, Mini Wheats (cereal overload), a weird 89-cent packet of mini pancakes, Trident, hair dye. Next they went with Daddy to Costco, stealing the last samples out from under people's noses, getting 48-packs of yogurt, bumping off each other like pool balls, making a scene amongst the over-consumers.
Chester groans in the kitchen, drinks for five minutes from his water with a horrible slopping noise. Rachael has gone to bed, the birds are silent, Abby is reading in her room.
Christmas has hit all the stores, TJ Maxx was bubbling over with shoppers when I went to return something and buy Thailand Christmas decorations. I have given no thought to Thanksgiving but Susan wants to bring carrots. Rob's 50th birthday is Tuesday, they are going to spend the night gambling in Blackhawk, co-celebrating Lisa's birthday. I try to work up the enthusiasm to join them, but cannot get in the gambling mood. Too much going on here.
Grandpa Al was in an odd mood when I called him earlier, had a "horrible" dream about the past and the future. So intrigued Rachael that I had to make a pretext call back (about Rob's present) and find out more. Something about traveling on a ship past land and buildings. I didn't query about the future, too put-off by potential harbingers of doom. Rach was irked when I told him she had to know, but he laughed. Later I wondered if the ship was a memory of Grandma Pat's ashes going out to sea?
Otis wheezes, sleeping in the dining room - body on his bed, head on the floor. The air smells like the sugar cookie candle burning on the stove.
I think of Tricia waking up in the muggy tropical air, prepping for Monday morning at school. We all especially feel her absence. A ghost down the aisle at Target, in the downstairs bedroom, in the kitchen at the table. Tomorrow I will pack her Christmas box to send.
I need to get upstairs to my good book, cold bed and three warm bed-buddies.
