The new laptop has arrived!













I had forgotten it came with the new operating system XP.
I'm pretty comfortable with Windows 95, especially with the office assistant cat the meows and used my writings as a scratching post.
FUN!

XP will take a little get used to.
I'm game, and want to dig in

But of course, life is never simple

The package arrived as I was scrambling to get to work, for an shift that was going to be more challenging than usual. My little brain was full.

Bernie fired the computer up, and cries of joy rang out from our office:
"Check this out!"
"Isn't this cool!"
"What do you think about this?"

Aaagghhhh...off to work I went, leaving my baby behind.

Tuesday was even challenging.

Ever notice that if you put one thing on your calendar, a whole bunch of other stuff pile on in the same square?

Tuesday, 9:30 am.
Eye doctor follow up appointment.
One hour in office, one hour driving time round trip.

Bernie had to schedule a trip to Nashville.
We decide I would drive him to the airport at 12:30.
That way I could take his car when I went to the airport at 5:30, park his car in the five story parking garage at the airport, tell him where I parked, and then when he flew home Wednesday, he would just find his car and drive on home., and only have to pay one day's parking fees.

Perfect!

In between his work, he is still playing with the new computer.
And calling out to me to come see this, where would I like this installed, do I understand how to use that?
He's putting CDs into a case for me to enjoy on the plane, and suggesting DVDs that I could watch. He's adding batteries and earphones and everything he can think of that I might need when I use this new wonder while I'm away.

And my brain is going:
I should pack two pairs of panty hose, in case I get a run before the wedding. Should I take the chuncky scarf to go with the sweater or just wear a turtleneck under it? Where did I put the hat that goes with that dress? Pearl hat pin or green one? Got to remember to pack my favorite tea for the room....

At 12:30 we get ready to head to the airport to drop him off. We go over the plan one more time:

I'll drive him to the airport in his car.
Then I'll drive myself to the airport in his car.
(I make a big yellow note for myself: TAKE BERNIE'S CAR TO THE AIRPORT! Otherwise I'll forget and hop into mine...)
I'll park in the AIRPORT parking garage, write down where in the garage, and call him with the location, leaving a voice mail.
He'll then drive his car home.

Got it.

Off we went, and right there at the curb we realized that the key in the ignition was the only key we brought, and the other one was sitting on top of the yellow note on the kitchen table.

Doh!

(Not to worry, we cooked up a plan to put the key and the locking device inside the gas cap door.
So much for the little metallic hide-a-key option. Plus with our car being 10 years old, doesn't that shiny new Lexus parked right next to our car look like a lot more fun to steal? Of course it does!)

My one large suitcase, my not so large suitcase, my backpack, purse and myself arrived safely in Minneapolis late last night.

I've figured out how to use wireless connections, and that laptops de-magnetize hotel room keys.

Double doh!

I think I'm liking this new XP system flavor.

Almost as I like the new Hershey's Chocolate Cherry flavored Kisses, which were at work on Monday night as a pre-Valentine's Day treat.

Oh. My. Gosh.

How did I ever survive without Chocolate Cherry flavored Kisses?

New flavors.

I definitely like!
-

Three below what???


 

Hard to say.

This is before.

The garden bed is choked with Mexican Petunias, dead leaves, weeds.

Some people, including myself at one point, BUY Mexican Petunia, because when they are young they have pretty lavender flowers.

Some people think dead leaves are great in garden beds.

Some people call a weed a volunteer.

This is a collection of rocks, roots and leaves that was in the garden bed.







Oops, rock, roots and leaves, and a small tiny snake.
Um, actually a pretty good size snake, about three feet long.

Harmless.

He's where he belongs, doing his job.
(giving the cats something to stare at...)







And what is this?
A big fat spider living under a rock edge.

I'm not sure what kind it is.
(Sure is ugly...)

Not a Black widow.
There's no red hour glass mark, and the legs are too short.
And not a Brown Recluse, as there is no brown violin mark on his back, and the legs are again too short.
Tickling him with a pine needle, I urge him back into hiding again.

This was our garden to tend.
Its boundaries to defend.
We knew what we were doing.

The petunias, despite their summer blooms had choked the garden bed with their woody gnarled roots and lanky leggy necks.
(We would not allow them to crowd the space.)

The leaves would harbor fungus, and not compost well,
(We wouldn't allow them to bank the borders, and clutter the view.)

The snake we checked to be sure it was harmless.
The spider we questioned, and noted its space.

We spread rich soil to enrich the native clay base, got gritty, and warm, and our faces became covered in smiles and sweat.

We felt good about our day.

I got a call.

A friend who has no time for gardens.
She tends those who are dying.
(Spending days without sleep, as only she know what the dying need.)
She cares for those who are sick.
(Spending years in that watchfulness, gone from her home multiple days each week.)
She fills out forms for those in need.
(Spending hours calculating, and filing, they wouldn't know how.)
She drives long miles to visit those in prison.
(Spending hours traveling for a brief visit and chat, who else would go?)
She opens her home to the homeless.
(Spending her understanding of alcoholism gained from a parent as a child to understand the alcoholic at her door.)

It's hard to say sometimes.

Weeds or flowers.
Dead leaf clutter or the beginning of mulch.
Space or snake.
Harmless or harmful.
Exquisite care or expressed dysfunction.
Works for her or working her.
A call of God or comforting chaos.

Dying to self

Or just dying.

Hard to know the boundaries of what to say to a friend.

What she calls flowers,

I call choking weeds.