Weekend Tale

A sign of how I've changed over the last few years: yesterday, I left the house to go into Boston. I parked a short walk from the T (well, 15 minutes, but free on-street parking instead of $5.50 to park in the lot, which was a trade-off I was willing to make). I started to get my stuff together, and cussed at the sudden realization: I forgot my knitting!

I mean, what is a person to do on the T, just sit there? When she could be knitting? Who could do that? (Answer: virtually everybody.)

I considered going back home to get it, and decided that would be cutting it a little close. Still, I felt the loss. Just sitting there, watching the dreary day outside, with empty hands ... weird. It was better once we were underground, and I could think about the movie Superman, and how Ned Beatty's character wandered along to Lex Luthor's lair under the subway system, oblivious to the man following him, and we all know how that turned out, right? (I could not remember the name of his character yesterday, so I just looked it up: Otis. For some reason, I could find Miss Teschmacher without pause. Isn't the mind a mysterious thing?) (And yes, this really is what I was thinking about as we went through the tunnels.)

Anyway, even without knitting, I enjoyed the antiquarian book fair (courtesy of my alma mater, UMass Amherst), and the experience of wandering around, in the company of like-minded people, ogling amazing books. I had no plans to buy, and did not, but it was a feast for the senses, and one I highly recommend.

I was only out for a few hours, but Harold welcomed me home with vehement cries of "You left me!" I'm not sure he expected me to wake him before I went, but he didn't seem pleased to have been taken by surprise that way. He leads such a hard life.

I am very sad, no?

Moving on. The Bruins played well for most of last night's game, but sadly, the game is 60 minutes long, not 50. If the latter were true, they would have won 2-0, instead of losing 3-2 in a shootout. Not that I particularly noticed, having a terrible headache through most of the second half of the game. Once the game was over, I kind of mumbled something and shut the TV off, rather than grumping and growling about their performance, as I normally would. My headaches don't usually get so bad, or involve my stomach so thoroughly, but once in a while we achieve the perfect storm of migraines. Unfortunately.

Today has been better, and the sun even came out part of the day, which was nice to see in a where-have-you-been sort of way, and almost made up for the gale-force winds. I had a nice lunch with a friend, and now am heading into my first Sunday-night, get-ready-for-work since August. Should I do laundry? I ought to run the dishwasher! What am I bringing for lunch tomorrow? Actually, looking at the clock was a relief; since it's so dark out, I thought it was later than it is. I still have some time.

But I think I will go start the dishwasher...