Posted: April 24, 2005 in Calvin, Family, insomnia, Music

What I’m doing right now would absolutely put Calvin to sleep, but it doesn’t seem to be working on me. I’m sitting on the couch, and after a futile attempt at finding something watchable on TV, I am now listening to Symphony No. 36 in C Major by Amadeus on Sirius’ classical music channel. I’ve brewed a cup of tea, which is cooling to a drinkable temperature next to me. The window beside me is open, and the sprinklers just went off in the back yard. I guess Calvin forgot to turn them off last night like he was going to – we got quite a bit of rain. It smells wonderful coming in on a slight movement of air.

We went to bed near to 1:00, after watching “Birth” with Nicole Kidman (which was quite the strange movie). I tossed and “doy”-ed until after 3:00, then moved to the living room so I could quit bothering Calvin. Marie has finally moved back up to her bedroom – she went on a cleaning fit yesterday from the time she got up until after dinner. She brought down a bag of clothes she no longer wears, for donation. She cleared out a bunch of pack-ratty items that she no longer uses. She dusted, vacuumed, and cleaned her bathroom. Her closet looks like it belongs to Imelda Marcos – she’s got the only walk-in closet in the house, and her 27 pairs of shoes (“that I wear, there are more!”) are lined up like soldiers across the entire floor.

Wow. Symphony No. 36 is really long.

We got a lot of stuff done yesterday – I got all the laundry folded, this week’s and last week’s. We wiped down and dusted the whole house, and swept the floors. I took the area rugs outside and scrubbed them down with carpet cleaner. I cleaned off the patio furniture out back. Calvin cleaned our entire bedroom (like father like daughter?). I washed almost all of the bedding.

Today we’ve got a dump run, mopping the floors, detailing the kitchen, and making the beds for the kids’ visit. Calvin wanted to do the back yard, but I think the grass is going to be too wet for it. Yeah, like his heart will break. We’ll probably do some straightening up in the garage – we bought a storage shed (by Arrow, the same brand that Home Depot sells, for $200 less) so we could put away the overflow stuff that wouldn’t fit into the Cabinets From Hell. And we’ve got to do a major grocery shopping trip. Really major.

Hey Heather! Don’t let me forget to take the movies back!

Huge congratulations to Sherry and George, who are expecting a little someone to be a companion to Hayley! Amanda, I bet this is going to make it so much harder for you to move.

Finally. Symphony No. 36 is over, and we’re on to Fantasia para un Gentilhombre by Joaquin Rodrigo. Pretty tame, if this is supposed to be a musical representation of a gentleman’s fantasy. I do love acoustic guitar, though.

It’s 5:30, and it’s starting to get light outside. It looks like the vines on the back yard wall survived all the wind from last night. The Charlie Brown vine has more flowers on it than leaves. Our first attempt at maintaining and growing a rose bush doesn’t seem to be too successful at this point, though. Such a sad, droopy little plant. I shall name it Eeyore. Because we have to name all the underdog plants in the yard. I would name it Marvin, but nobody in the house would get it.

Man, the birds are singing fit to be tied this morning. Must be some good worms out there. I expect to hear the regular morning visit of the metalpecker on our chimney any moment, now. Sounds like a damned machine gun going off in our All Tile All The Time house.

Why are all these classical songs so long?

My neck is KILLING me. It hurts to look in any direction other than straight ahead – which is one of the reasons that I couldn’t sleep. I am so. tired. of my back and neck and shoulders hurting all the time. ALL the time. It never stops. I still see my massage therapist on occasion, but she’s moved to California and only comes back to AZ one weekend a month for her clients (she rocks, she’s so nice). I think the only way to cure me would be to have a session with her three times a week for the next year.

I have been absolutely not hungry for weeks and weeks. I think it’s the meds. I’ll eat yogurt for breakfast, three bites of a sandwich for lunch, and still not feel like dinner at night. This is taking a toll on my metabolism, I know. And providing for a decided lack of energy, which means I’m not motivated to work out. Which also draws my energy down. No movement = lack of hunger. It’s a vicious circle. The upside, of course, is a bit of weight loss, which isn’t breaking my heart one little bit. But I’m still disinclined to wear sleeveless shirts – there’s no tone to my arms at all.

And now to completely flip-flop on my above statement, I think I’m going to go make some peanut butter toast. And put something on the TV other than Overture to a Picaresque Comedy. Who odes to any comedy, Picaresque or otherwise, I ask you? Well, apparently Arnold Bax does.

According to

pic·a·resque adj

1. Of or involving clever rogues or adventurers.
2. Of or relating to a genre of usually satiric prose fiction originating in Spain and depicting in realistic, often humorous detail the adventures of a roguish hero of low social degree living by his or her wits in a corrupt society.

Huh. You learn something new every day.


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