Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Home alone
Karen and Jake are in Eureka tonight. They went down for a pediatrician appointment, and the roads are too dicey to risk a trip back in the dark. Not on twisty two-way highways with ice and snow on the road, granite embankment on one side, sheer drop to the ocean on the other.
That’s only a teensy exaggeration.
But they’re living high, spending the night at the Best Western with the limo driver who will schlep you to the restaurant of your choice. Avalon, to be exact, where Jake’s eating a yummy burger and Karen’s eating some sort of prawn dish. (Hmm. This is the woman who told me she was sick of prawns. Sick of MY prawns, apparently.)
Here I am, all by my lonesome. What to do? I’ve gathered up the garbage bags and taken out the trash; I’m recording The Daily Show and Colbert Report for the troops (and I might as well record Olbermann, too, while I’m at it); I’ve fed the cats and put them out in the garage. Lured them out with food — bet they’re pissed.
Karen and I are rarely apart. It’s infrequent enough that in a few minutes’ time I could probably write down all the times we’ve been apart and I doubt I’d miss more than a few instances. I sleep okay when I’m alone, and I presume (since one of us snores) Karen sleeps better apart, so that’s no big deal. Still, it’s odd being in my own home, not having my family around me. What to do, what to do.
I suspect it’s a non-issue. After I write this post, answer my emails, waste time on the net, shower & shave, it’ll be time for bed, or very close. Surgery tomorrow morning, so an early bedtime wouldn’t be a half bad idea.
By the way: the pediatrician was unimpressed with Jake’s problems. (This is good. You don’t want to impress your doctor.) “If he still feels this way in two weeks, call me.” The kid has been nauseated since New Years . . . but “call me.”
Which is fine, really, but I wouldn’t want to be the one to make that decision. There’s a good reason doctors try not to treat their own family members.
D.
My suggestions for what you should do while your family is cavorting around eating prawns:
-Interpretive dance
-Creating rubber band sculptures
-Bending spoons with the power of your mind
-Removing all the labels from the cans in the pantry, so dinner can be an adventure for the next month
-Figuring out why so many writers have pictures of frogs on their blogs
-Flossing pets’ teeth
Good luck deciding between the many worthy options.
I enjoy my infrequent times home alone. I wouldn’t want a lot of them, but now and then it’s great to have no one else here.
Jenna: name one other writer with a frog pic on his or her blog. And welcome!
Mo: admittedly, it was a bit more peaceful than usual.
Peaceful, smeaceful. I bet you only last one night. I bet you go and get those two in a rented four wheeler if it runs on more than one night. Think about it, Walnut. They are out having an adventure without you AND eating prawns.
I would kick Jake’s doc in the knackers. That’s just me and I have no tolerance for the “call me in 2 weeks” routine.
I’m actually leaving for area 51 on Sunday. Wish me luck. Weird luck, which I seem to have plenty of. I hope I don’t get arrested. Kind of. Kind of not.
Walnut, it’s an odd trend I’ve noticed. I have one here: http://jennaglatzer.blogspot.com/2006_06_01_archive.html and shortly after I posted it, I started noticing that several other writers have pics of frogs on their blogs, too. I didn’t save links, though. This will have to be an unscientific assertion. 😉
I left my son with my husband for two weeks this summer while I took off with the girls. Son to father: “Does this mean that we can stay in our underwear ALL DAY?”
CD: they’re back! The snow ploughs came through and cleared the road this morning, and Karen says the drive back wasn’t bad at all.
Jenna: a leopard frog! Rana pipiens, if I remember my high school biology dissections 🙂
Suisan: “. . . and scratch to your heart’s content.”