Do-nothing Thursday

Today has been a trés boring day; I went over to yet another recruitment firm who wanted to submit me on yet another short-term contract; after that I came home, put a coat of paint on the new fascia section at the back of the house, cut up some old dead bamboo to get it ready for the trash pickup . . . and read.  Allison called early in the afternoon and we talked for nearly an hour, while she drove to the City from her home in the East Bay for a doctor’s appointment.  We hadn’t had a chance for a long, meandering conversation in a while, and it was nice to talk about nothing of Great Social and Political Importance.

M’s getting better since she went on antibiotics; it turned out she had an E. coli urinary-tract infection.  She’s looking and acting rather brighter and less lethargic.  Within the last week she’s learned how to sit up without support, although she hasn’t yet worked out how to get herself into a sit, and she hasn’t learned how to recover if she leans too far and over-balances.

T should be back from her church retreat tomorrow afternoon; I’ll be interested in hearing how her friend Rachel liked it.  T says Rachel’s at about the same place, spiritually, that T was when she went on her first retreat of this kind, two years ago.  I want to get T’s help with tearing off the old gutters and hanging the new ones—handling ten-foot lengths of guttering simply isn’t a one-person job.

35 days . . . .

About Marchbanks

I'm an elderly tech analyst, living in Texas but not of it, a cantankerous and venerable curmudgeon. I'm yer SOB grandpa who has NO time for snot-nosed, bad-mannered twerps.
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