What a great way to start the day! The people of Fargo are the epitome of a neighbor!

If you want to be inspired, read this article about how the people of Fargo have been taking care of each other, opening their hearth and home to friends and strangers alike. A home saved is opened to occupants of one flooded. Strangers bring quilts and a glucose meter to a couple who lost their home in a fire because the rising waters kept the trucks from reaching their home. The emergency shelters are barely needed because of the overwhelming response of those who wanted to help.

A winter storm blanketed the city last night, threatening the already taxed dikes. But the warmth of Fargo was not dimmed a bit!

When push comes to shove, you discover the character of a person...and the heart of a town.

This afternoon, I received a phone call from the doctor who treated me in the ER last Sunday night to talk about some blood work that had come back. I knew why she was calling even before she dialed my number. I figured it out last night.

About 10 days before my next menstruation cycle, I can find myself awash in an emotional storm. Sometimes, it is merely a category 3, other times it is a tsunami.

I wish I could blame the MS, but I am sure that a neurological disease has little to do with hormones. My balance is fine otherwise, but not then. Never then. At least not for the past few years. Sometimes I wonder if menopause might actually be a relief for me.

I have tried different medications, but the problem is not a constant one, not even every month. I do have a short-term prescription that provides a little "distance" that I can take, but I have to remember to take it. Unfortunately, remembering is frankly not possible while battling the tidal waves of emotion. It is all I can do to keep breathing.

I have alarms in my cell phone for practically everything these days, but I cannot figure out a way to make it ask me if I need a chill pill. Not when my cycle refuses to follow a set schedule. Over the years, I have asked, well...actually begged, my friends to ask me if it could be that time of the month were they to see me in an emotional storm. However, they are not good at remembering either. Perhaps I should get signs made to hang up around my home?

When I realize what is happening, the utter relief at knowing I am not crazy is nearly tangible. Then comes the resolve to somehow recognize it the next time.

I figured out last night what the week before was all about, which gave me pause. While the depth of my anguish was fueled by sky-high hormones, the underlying hurt remained the same. I had wanted a safe haven and to be understood, accepted even if what I wanted didn't make sense to my friend. I thought that was not too much to ask. Apparently it was.

At one point, her husband asked me why I didn't want to meet their friends. It was all I could do not to burst into tears at that moment. I wanted to retort what in the world made them think I would want to? I am tired all the time, and was even more so with all the work I've been doing. I hurt all the time. All the time. I struggle with my vision. I struggle with cognitive processes. I struggle with word. I thought they could see me. I guess I was wrong.

I keep thinking back to my parents visit last August. I hobbled in agony for over an hour trying to keep up with my mother at the National Aquarium. Her only response was obvious impatience that she had to keep waiting for me. I hid in the shade on a stone bench at the National Arboretum while both my parents walked around. Neither of them gave a thought about the heat and its affect on me.

What do I want more than anything in this life? A place to belong. A place where I am known and understood and accepted as is. I want the bar in "Cheers." I want the friends in "My Boys" on TNT and Robert Jordan's Wheel of Time books.

What was difficult to also face is the reality that I tried to buy that place, especially in recent months, practically beggaring the rest of 2009 in the process. I guess I thought if I were the friend of great gifts, who shared much, then I would be the friend who was welcome no matter what. I was wrong about that.

I saw T's face when I had an asthma attack in her presence for the first time. She was frightened and worried. Bettina just goes on with whatever she is doing. To be honest, both reactions are hard to take. I want support, but I don't want to hurt someone in the process. I know traveling with my pets is work. I know the constant asthma attacks are a drain. I know my preference for hanging out at home is not the most engaging time. I know this. I just wish that I had someone for whom it was completely and absolutely okay.

Because I had to work some last week, my boss suggested I take today off as well. I accepted with alacrity. That makes for a short week. Surely, I have slept enough in the past eight days to make up for the trying times of the past month!

Do you know what the greatest gift God has given us beyond the sacrifice of His Son? Sunrise. Each day is a new beginning. A fresh start. Hope for a different future.

Tiger Wood won! Yeah!

By the way...golf in HD is mighty fine television!

From the Sober Peasant:

Many people are aware that President Obama is in the process of rescinding a regulation from late in the Bush administration allowing health-care workers to refuse to provide "services" (read: abortion) based on moral objections.

What many do not realize is that the required public comment phase began March 10 and ends April 9. It is also very difficult to find the link to provide such comment. Click here for the link and let your voice be heard! Tell our current administration that it is wrong to force people to act against conscience. And please pass this along, that many folks may express their concern with this proposed change.

I have spent much of this day in prayer for the folks living along the Red River, especially those in Fargo, Bismark, and Moorhead. Can you imagine frantically bagging sand to save your city and having to worry about the sand bags freezing before you can get them placed? Rock-hard sand does not make a tight dike.

In Fargo, you have a whole city and something on the order of 1,700 National Guardsmen working together to beat back a predicted flood stage higher than has been seen since 1897. May their valiant efforts be not in vain.

It makes me wonder how the folks of Cedar Rapids and all those living along the Iowa, Cedar, and Mississippi rivers who saw their livelihoods destroyed--and for some their towns wiped off the map--last summer are doing...

The current economic crisis has blanketed the news and our daily existence for months, causing us to forget about the hundreds of thousands of Americans who are still trying to put the pieces of their lives back together. I suppose those flood victims are keeping a keen eye on North Dakota and Minnesota and praying that the flood threat there does not portent a heartbreaking spring and summer for a Midwest region that has to be rather weary of disaster.

A bit more work today means that we have both control of the domain AND the website files. Now I just have to wait for the DNS servers across the Internet to update the new location of the website. Perhaps tomorrow this transition will be done! Of course, once Contribute has been added to the site, I will need to make some updates to it...

Today, I filed the paperwork that has been sitting on my steps for months, reconciled my bank account, paid my bills for the month of April, worked on transferring my underlined verses to my new bible, nebulized, and watched Fancy sleep.

My boss suggested that I take another day on Monday since I have some each day this week. I suppose I shall not be adverse to that plan. I could wish I were accomplishing more being home, but at least I have been sleeping until mid-afternoon each day. Perhaps that should be enough for me. I do need to start transitioning to getting up a bit earlier each day so that by Tuesday going to work will not be so difficult.

I couldn't bring myself to unpack that last bag of games and DVDs, so it is still sitting on the floor by the table...sort of tucked out of sight.

I did empty the dishwasher, fill the bird feeders, and watch Fancy sleep some more.

And, of course, I ended up working some since the wretched host of one of our websites pulled the site down yesterday. We had been trying to get control of the domain and are planning to switch to another host once he had uploaded our files to the new host. Once we were awarded the domain from the registrant, he pulled the files. He will not upload them without a "consulting" fee that has tripled since we first asked him to do this a month ago. SIGH.

I tried to negotiate with him to put the site back up while he waits for our check for his "consulting" invoice and then offered to give him my credit card to just pay the thing and finish off with him. Apparently, my credit card is fine for his hosting fee, but not for his "consulting" fee. So there was much shenanigans on my part to try and get a check processed and overnighted to him. DOUBLE SIGH.


~~~~
Bettina's daughter E slept with me at the cabin on Saturday night and awoke before her parents did and long before I wished her to do so. At my house, I had an alarm clock she could watch to wait for the time she could officially "awake."

Before I started really coughing and woke officially myself, she tried to be quiet by whispering her chatter instead of speaking normally. I might have been able to ignore it had she not been directing her observations and queries directly toward me, rather helpfully repeating them if she heard no grunting response.

The night before, I had taken down the railing and moved her to the side of the bed by the wall because I just knew that the during the night I would knock the whole thing down while trying to climb over her to visit the necessity. When I suggested that she check to see if her parent were awake, she tried very carefully to get out of the bed without climbing over me. On her second trip, I suggested she just go ahead and step on me.

Each time she stepped on my arm or leg or stomach, she would whisper her apology before making her next move. One trip to the bathroom. One trip for books. Two trips to check on her parents. Perhaps the laughter I tried to stifle at her kind attention to my feelings about being mashed was the reason I had an asthma attack!

I have unpacked my bags now and have just the games and DVDs to put away. Perhaps tomorrow.

I vacuumed the rug, loaded the dishwasher, nebulized, and watched Fancy sleep on my shoulder.

Trust me, dosing a bird with medicine does not get easier with each attempt.

I am sitting on the couch, doing my fourth nebulizer treatment today, instead of playing games with Bettina at her cabin. I am here because I left. I left because I felt I had no other choice. Yet I know I made a decision my dearest friend didn't understand...which made my departure all the worse for me.

I had the best plan. I would take off an extra day and spend last Monday through Thursday packing a bit at a time each evening and then leave early on Friday morning so that the leave-taking was not too difficult. One of those tasks was to put the birds in the spare cage I planned to take with me to the cabin and then leave it at Bettina's house to make future visits easier. It was only one of those tasks that did not happen because I worked 42 hours between Monday and Thursday. No evening packing. No evening planning. No "new" cage practicing.

By Thursday evening, I was convinced that I was too tired to go to the cabin. It would be too much work, too difficult. I was overwhelmed by all that needed doing and was actually dreading the visit. I had spent the night before waiting for Bettina to call me, but she did not. So, when she told me Thursday evening that she was going to have company at the cabin on Sunday, I just couldn't believe it. I told her that I didn't have the energy to being with company. I just wanted to hang out in my pajamas and play with the children and her. I then said that I could just leave the cabin for a while or stay in my room. After hanging up, I tried to start packing and only ended up crying at the thought of hiding in a room at her cabin and all that I had to do just to get there. I called Bettina back and told her I just need to give up the visit.

Friday, I slept until 3:17 PM. I couldn't really picture a whole week off at home and was wondering what I was doing when I read a letter Bettina had sent me. She wrote out the entire book of Philippians for me, weaving in my name and things that we had done together. I was overwhelmed by the gift of Scripture and called her and asked what she thought about my still coming.

She had already decided to go to the cabin with her family, so she changed her plans again and waited for me to get to her home while her husband took the children on up to the cabin. We ate pizza and watched a DVD and made it around 11:30, I think.

But the next morning Fancy fell in the cage and her her wing. She was bleeding and ultimately lost 32 feathers, two thirds of her entire wing. All that is left is this stubby thing that still has a few feathers twisted in the wrong direction. I was horrified. If you remember, Madison was injured when I stayed with Bettina and her family a year ago Thanksgiving. I didn't want to lose another bird in an horrible accident.

We played some games and watched some DVDs and cooked a tasty meal and I napped. Yet I also hear three things that hurt. Bettina would say I took them personally, when I shouldn't, but I heard that my conversation with her husband was boring, that staying up late playing games was ridiculous, and that reading the bible with me would be like placating a whim. I went to bed hurt.

Sunday, I awoke with an asthma attack that frightened me. My oximeter was blinking because the batteries were running low, but it still read 84 at the height of my attack. The shaking from the medicine was worse because I had not eaten.

The night before, I had learned that Bettina and her family were going to church the next morning. We hadn't gone last year so I thought her company was just coming for lunch. She and her husband stopped by a store on the way to get me batteries, chloroseptic, and some toilet paper and she called to see if I wanted her to come back. I did. I wanted her to come desperately. I didn't want to be alone with my worry over Fancy and my fear that comes when I struggle to breath. I hate being alone in the ER. I've asked three different people if they would come and stay when I am there over the past year. All three said that they would. None of them came when I called. But I told Bettina that she should go on to church.

I got control of the attack, but not before my chest was sore and my body was trembling from the Epipen, a round of inhalers, and two nebulizer treatments. I dozed some and then listened to Bettina and her company visit.

I thought they were just coming for lunch, but by 3:00 PM, I couldn't stand how I felt at being holed up in the room anymore and started packing. I wanted to take Fancy to the vet. I wanted to go home where I could be me and it would be okay.

I pretend at work every day. I pretend I do not hurt. I pretend that I feel well. I pretend I understand when I fighting confusion. I pretend that I am stronger than I am. I pretend that I can do things that I shouldn't. I pretend I do not mind being given the tasks of an assistant when I am supposed to be a communications manager. I pretend that I don't mind having every single thing I do being controlled and approved prior to, during, and after I finish it. I pretend that it doesn't bother me that my skills are not being used even as I watch them slipping away. I pretend. I pretend. I pretend. I pretend.

I have been working long hours because they are needed and I will not jeopardize my job. I cannot afford to be out of work. I absolutely cannot afford to not have health insurance. Yet it is so very difficult to work full-time with MS, and it feels as if working overtime is practically impossible...like clinging by my finger tips off the edge of a cliff. How long can I hang on before I fall?

I tried to see a neurologist for my vision problems and he refused to see me. I tried to chase down the asthma with the pulmonologist and was told my violent attacks were "half" asthma and half something else...GERD, allergies...a "learned" response. No GERD. No allergies. Does she really think I am doing this to myself? It is one thing to be diagnosed with cough variant asthma, it is a totally different thing all together to actually get treatment for it. No one understands the coughing part! I tried to make my back feel better with physical therapy, only to hurt more and wind up with nearly $5K in bills that the insurance company denied as "out-of-network" when the clinic was listed on its website. I tried. I tried. I tried.

I am tired all the time. I hurt all the time. My vision blurs all the time. I get confused all the time. I struggle with words, thought processes, and being oriented to time and place all the time. None of that is going to change. More likely, it is just going to get worse.

I spent last night in the ER, coughing and gasping and hoping that control would come soon so that I could get back to watching Fancy breathe. I spent last night in the ER feeling desperately lonely and reciting the few bible verses that have not yet slipped from my cheese-hole brain and wishing that I were anywhere else.

I spent this day alternating between nebulizer treatments and trying to unpack and taking Fancy to the vet. The good news is that the vet believes her wing is only sprained, not broken. If she can make it through the trauma of the injury, she can recover. The vet cleaned the wound from where her blood feathers were ripped out and put her on a painkiller and an antibiotic. I have a week's worth of two syringes that I need to poke down her beak once a day...somehow without stressing her further.

The blood loss, the feather loss, and the lack of appetite have combined to make Fancy 25 grams less than she was during her visit just a couple of weeks ago. I have to keep her weight up and her spirits up and get her to eat and she can get better. Unfortunately, it can take six months or more for her wing to fill out again. During that time, I will have to watch her closely because she will not be able to fly and could hurt herself more should she try to do so or fall off/become startled off the cage.

I asked to go to the cabin because I wanted a haven. Yet I had pet drama and health drama and felt so out-of-place, as if I didn't belong and wouldn't ever. Maybe as someone else, but not as me. Not as the person who just needed a hole to crawl into that happened to have a friend and games and DVDs and children and tasty meals and moss. A hole with no pressure to conform or perform or engage in the draining social contract of pretending that I am not who I am.

I wonder, by leaving, if I have lost more than just a week of vacation.

My old boss called me quite upset last night. She had watched The Oprah Winfrey Show today and wanted to talk with me about what she saw.

Normally, Oprah is not a show she follows. However, that morning she had seen a promo highlighting Montel Williams. P knew he had MS, so she taped the show.

She called to tell me that she thought I was tremendously brave for getting up in the mornings, knowing what I would face throughout the day. She called to tell me that she had not been a good friend to me.

Oprah is rebroadcast at 1:00 AM, so I taped the show and gathered up the nerve to watch it. I am not quite sure if that was a good decision.

He talked about pain quite a bit, far better than I have in any of my gazillion posts about it. For example, I've described the pain in my feet when I get up in the morning as if I am standing on knives. He described the pain as being skewered in his feet with hot metal rods that are twisted as they are being shoved higher and higher up his legs. Different imagery, eh?

I felt as if I were not alone, listening to him. I felt even more lonely listening to him. He has a staunch support in his wife. She watches him, intervenes when he needs it. She sees him even when he is pretending for others. When he cries, he is not alone. When he hurts, he is not alone. When he is angry, he is not alone. When he is tired, he is not alone.

I had fellowship in how he talked about his pain and the cruel idiosyncratic nature of this disease, of often knowing more than the doctors he visits, of having to fight through each and every day. Yet my longing to not have to battle each and every day by myself was all the more bitter after listening to him.

I could wish that my friends and family would sit down and watch the show captured on my DVR, but I wonder if they would see what I need them to see or if what he was transparent enough to share would just be passed over as just another celebrity "survivor" story.

Last night was late, tonight later. I did not arrive home from work until just after 10:00 PM. Many tasks were accomplished and perhaps I conveyed my commitment to the job deeply enough to my boss for However, I have 39 hours in already and need to submit an on-line grant this evening before chasing my dreams.

Someone was ill in the elevator and the lobby. Oh, my, does that make moving about the building so very difficult. Now, I am sorry that person was feeling poorly, but the sour smell will surely cling to those carpets for ages.

SIGH.

~~~~
I did break my first miracle nail today. Having a stubby one next to nine long, beautiful nails is altogether different from having a stubby one next to nine other stubby ones. I almost yanked out the the clippers and chopped the rest of them off. After all, putting in my contacts, typing, and dialing a phone have all brought a learning curve I never expected to have. However, contrary to when I was chopping my hair off every few days, I stayed the impulse and just filed the others down so that the difference was not quite so noticeable.

[I know...that was silly girly talk. Sorry.]

~~~~
Kashi has another acupuncture treatment tomorrow. A few weeks ago, the violent nerve response to being touched on his back has returned. The first treatments essentially lasted 3 months. While he is not so bad as he was, I thought I would try to be a bit more proactive about the matter. His quality of life has become so very much better now that he is on his new Chinese herb. From day three of adding that drug to his regimen, he has only fallen once, rather than the multiple-times-a-day rate he was at because of a growing hind quarter weakness.

I have gone from near despair over believing it was time to make that t00-painful-decision to say good-bye to daring to hope the surgery was the right decision to hold on to my beloved puppydog, my sweet Petunia, my beautiful Buttercup a while longer.

~~~~
Having my bible on the corner of my desk has already been a help because I do not even have to open it to gain that perspective I've been needing at work. One glance is enough. Such is the power of the Word of God!

My writing student is home on holiday from college, so we spent the afternoon and evening together. For a while now, I have been hankering for someone to watch both Elizabeth movies (the ones starring Cate Blanchett). I had not seen the second, but did not want to do so until I could watch/study the first. K happily obliged me, being as interested in English history as I.

For dinner, I introduced her to Panera Bread's Fuji Apple salad. Truly, it is the perfect salad. Tart. Sweet. And whole pile of chicken. [Just writing this I am already looking forward to having another as soon as i can manufactured something to celebrate by heading back there.] We also had muffin tops for dessert.

The movies were engaging, though sad. To be queen might have meant power and privilege, but it also meant a rather lonely life. Who loved her as a woman, a friend, not a queen? To be queen, for her, also meant being surrounded by intrigue, political minefields, and repeated attempts on her life. Yet she heralded such a profound and radical shift in society. To live as she did and accomplish that is remarkable.

K and I also wrote together, focusing on editing a particular piece.

Lately, in her work and mine, has come the intriguing challenge to fully answer a question with severe word or character limitations. I travel the path of getting the whole answer on paper (screen) and then reduce from there. Sometimes, the reduction comes in the form of a ruthless hack job, everything is fair game. Other times, it is a matter of finding words throughout the piece that you can essentially do without--articles are the best part of speech for this. You weed. You delete. You hack. Despite all that removing of text, you still must hold on to the heart of your piece and leave your reader satisfied. A daunting, yet exhilarating task.

'Tis such an unalloyed pleasure for me to write--even more so when in collaboration with a talented wordsmith.

Needless to say, I enjoyed the evening immensely.

What was the icing on the cake, you ask? A video call by Bettina! After enjoying her infectious, beautiful smile for a while, we squeezed in a Scrabble game. Despite the fact that I had mostly dismal letters and fell victim to Bettina's extraordinarily fine mind yet again, I still enjoyed the game. This evening could not have been more perfect...save for breaking down and having a second Dr. Pepper with lemon in it!

B wrote about her nickname and mine on her blog, so I thought I would do the same here.

A long while ago, I gave her the nickname of "Bettina." Then, I felt she needed a middle nickname and added "Matilda." Bettina Matilda. Doesn't that sound great?

For a while now, she has been casting about for one for me. We tried "George," but her husband did not care for the name for his wife's best friend. Then she struck upon the notion of using her nickname initials for mine. "Bernice Myrtle." A slight adjustment to "Myrtle Bernice" and a full nickname was assigned.

Myrtle Bernice. That me. Myrtle. Love it!

Another way B...no, Bettina, said, "I love you!"

Oh, how I am grieving the loss of that hour. My fingers were most reluctant to push the button to set my alarm clock forward...

~~~~
My accomplishment of the day was to set out crabgrass prevention. However, I now have an orange right hand. Do you think the chemical stain will fade before my grantmaker meeting on Tuesday? Remember...oaf!

Three loads of laundry and three books. Is that a good day?

Another week has finished. Two more days to sleep until the afternoon, catching up on the strain of working full time.

Truly, I have become a rather boring individual. Work. Go home and watch TV. Squeeze in a couple of book while sleeping away the weekend. Work.

However, no matter my feelings about what I am not allowed to do at work, I am most grateful for employment during these turbulent times. Especially since, no matter how hard I try, I keep ending up with out-of-network healthcare that is costing me far more money than is in my budget for medical expenses. I am appealing the decision since the physical therapy clinic I chose is on my provider's website, but I am not hopeful of the outcome. I do know I believe quite strongly that I will NOT pay those bills. ARGH.

And then there is the COLOSSAL mistake made by my accounting department. They increased what I claimed as my state withholding five-fold. When I did my taxes, I stared at the screen in utter disbelief when the program showed that I owe $1,875 for that mistake. I figured that something must have been wrong with my withholding and was not surprised when I confirmed that suspicion. Hopefully, what is taken out over the rest of the year will compensate for not having enough withheld the first two months.

Two huge bills in two days.

Yes, I am thankful for this job. I am thankful for the opportunity to pay my bills. I am thankful for a place to labor. For a place, yes, for a place to learn...even if those lessons are more about patience than professional development.

Nails! I have nails! I am not sure why since I have managed mere stubs for several years now. The only difference in my diet has been the addition of a B complex vitamin supplement.

Over the past year or so, I have several people mention that I ought to try taking vitamin B or have my doctor give me B12 shots because I am so tired. Their advice sounded good, but I just never followed up on it. That is, I never did so until last week.

Standing in Target waiting for a prescription, I found myself staring at a wall of vitamins and supplements. That oft repeated advice rose to the surface of my cheese-hole brain and I decided it could not hurt to try. Originally, I picked up a bottle of B12, but the pharmacist saw my selection and suggested I try the complex instead.

I could just kiss her! And, of course, all those who offered such sage advice. Forgive me for ignoring you for so long? I hope so.

My goodness! In just a few days, I noticed that I started waking up far more easily than I have in years. When Bettina was here and we stayed up all night and then slept some, I practically bounced down the stairs when I awoke that afternoon. Normally, I would have grunted at her for at least a half hour.

Not only do I wake up easier, I feel more alert, more present during the day. This little (okay, horse-sized) pill has most assuredly changed my life for the better.

Could it have also changed my nails?

I know it is silly, but having nails makes me feel girly. So often, I feel like an oaf. When I try to dress up and be gentile, I end up with ink on my fingers, food on my shirt, and a run in my hose. I trip in front of others, knock over a pile of books or papers, and generally look like a bumbling child. So, having stubby, broken nails all the time just reinforced my view.

It is with much delight, then, that I report that I have a full set of fingernails. The moment I realized I had not broken or ripped one for a couple of days, I slapped on some nail polish to try and save them. Normally, that would not change much, but another day went by, and then another. They were growing and not breaking.

I feel silly typing this, but I admit that having nails makes me feel more like a woman and less like an oaf. For whatever reason they are growing, I am thankful. Now, I just have to get used to putting in my contacts and dialing my cell phone with more than stubby fingers!

Wednesdays are tough days for they are the tipping point to the weekend, but not quite on the downhill toward days of sleeping late and reading books and NOT working. The days are long and usually consist of either wishing bible study lasted longer or being disappointed that I was not able to slip out to the study. That time away in the Word is an anchor that steadies me and helps me endure the turbulent waters at work.

During the Lenten season, the bible studies are on hiatus for special church activities, so today had no respite to bolster me. I believe I should just take one of my bibles to the office and leave it on my desk. Perhaps if I dip into the Word now and then, I would be better able to keep my eyes on that which truly matters rather than that which oft weighs my heart down.

I certainly have the opportunity to learn patience, to walk the path of being still before God. Now, to be honest, I must admit my walking is more like "stumbling" and "staggering" down that path. Yet, I do desire obedience to the life Christ has called us to, rather than the life I think would be best for me. How dare I find fault with the Creator!

I forget that all too often.

Just as I have put in place aids to help me deal with the cognitive dysfunction I battle, I believe I ought to put in place aids to help me walk in a manner pleasing to God. The bible should be a good start.

I would have welcomed another day of snow, another respite from work. But, alas, the warm weather has come rolling in and the road are quite clear.

There was plenty to do with the missed day of work. There was also news that makes me sigh rather deeply. For 60 days, I have to record what I am doing every ten minutes. Every 10 minutes. I suspect that is it going to be a rather long 60 days. I also wonder just how truthful some people will actually be about their 10 minute segments.

I did go ahead and ask off the last week of this month. For a very long while, I have been wanting to return to B's family's cabin. The time we spent there last year was so peaceful and restful. Watching Stargate SG1, playing games, tending to the children, and cooking tasty meals. And, of course, the glorious constant fires in the fireplace. Oh, and the moss...the quiet walks...watching J walk...coaxing Kashi up the open, outdoor staircase, sitting with E on the porch swing...

Not quite am I ready to actually believe the trip will take place, but at least I receive a nod from my boss as to the timing...

I slept until 2:00 this afternoon and took a nap a short while later. The snow really was not enough to bother the roads, but our office was closed anyway. Needless to say, I was not disappointed about having to remain home.

B got in a couple of video calls today. Unfortunately, there were also a couple of technical difficulties. SIGH. I did get to read part of a book to her children, but sitting in front of a computer staring at their goofy Aunt did not hold their attention for long. Nevertheless, I cannot wait to try video calls with my nephews!

Their camera arrives on Wednesday. I am not sure, however, how long it will be for their father to configure it. Hopefully, he will be as excited as I!

My what a wonderful visit I had with B!

We actually stayed up all last night, crawling into our respective beds some time after six o'clock this morning. Lots of games, lots of Farscape episodes, lots of talking. I won Triominos again. Shocking, I know. She won Rumikub. I won Phase Ten. She won Uno. She won Sorry. We both won Skipbo and a round of Gin Rummy.

We set up the web camera on my old laptop and tested it--she in my bedroom, I on the couch. I cannot wait to use it long distance! Our on-line Scrabble games will be that much more fun. When she starts trying to come up with a wickedly high-point word, I can distract her with visual antics. I am also sending one to my sister so that I can start making video calls to my nephews.

Kashi was beside himself when B arrived and has been moping in the basement. He finds her as wonderful as do I. When he is truly excited, he fluffs up his coat and gets all fuzzy. He also puts his ears back and wags his tail so hard that sometimes he loses his footing. 'Tis a bit wonderful to be greeted so enthusiastically.

Right now, I am crossing my fingers that the great southern blizzard coming our way will manage to lay down enough snow as to prevent the opening of my office tomorrow! If so, I shall be making up for the copious amounts of lost sleep I have been accumulating of late.