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Mar. 25th, 2007 11:04 amIt's an amazing weekend here, meteorologically speaking, more like mid-May than late March, and everyone is out in the streets in t-shirts and tank tops, strolling around, jogging, riding bikes, gazing up at the sun with blissed-out slack-jawed gratitude. Me, I am celebrating the annual First Day of Open Windows and Fresh Air in the House, which is the always-moveable but highest of High Holy Days in northern climes.
Yesterday evening, in honor of the weather and the vernal equinox, I impulsively bought a bottle of champagne to split with Mr. P. over dinner. When he arrived, he also had a bottle of champagne, which I took as cosmic serendipity, and he (I discovered) took as me FOR ONCE remembering that March 25 is our anniversary-of-sorts. Once we got that sorted out and I did the usual I'm-so-scatterwitted apology, he gently reminded me that this is also -- ulp -- number 15. As in, fifteen years. Contemplation of which fact really makes me need to go lie down for a few minutes, because dear GOD, when did all that time go past??
After dinner, we finished up our watching of The Phantom Empire, which is a completely, mind-bendingly bizarre old Gene Autry serial (ca. 1935) featuring singing cowboys, evil scientists in pith helmets, wacko underground empires of the Future!, young rope-twirling rodeo champions on horseback, evil courtiers in the underground empire in Ming-the-Merciless regalia, comic harmonica-playing cowboy sidekicks, Gene Autry engaging in swordplay with robots ... it's pretty amazing. Mr. P. has become totally addicted to old serials lately, bless his heart, and I guess Flash Gordon is up next. But I tell you what, ol' Flash never had any singing cowboys, so the hell with him.
In other news of no import, I went in to the orthopedist for a check-up last week. I was sort of hoping he'd look at my x-rays and say, Well, hey, you know what? We were wrong, this wrist isn't broken at all, let's just take this nasty old cast off! and have a nice day! Instead of which, he told me the cast was too loose and he had it replaced with a snugger-fitting one (damn it). The upside is that the new cast doesn't extend as far out on my hand, which gives me *much* more use of my fingers--I can actually type almost normally now. I'm also going to grab my chance to head out and see if bike-riding is manageable, before the forecasted giganto-thunderstorms roll in. God, I do so love thunderstorms; they're the thing I'll most miss about Minnesota, whenever I finally move on out of here.
Yesterday evening, in honor of the weather and the vernal equinox, I impulsively bought a bottle of champagne to split with Mr. P. over dinner. When he arrived, he also had a bottle of champagne, which I took as cosmic serendipity, and he (I discovered) took as me FOR ONCE remembering that March 25 is our anniversary-of-sorts. Once we got that sorted out and I did the usual I'm-so-scatterwitted apology, he gently reminded me that this is also -- ulp -- number 15. As in, fifteen years. Contemplation of which fact really makes me need to go lie down for a few minutes, because dear GOD, when did all that time go past??
After dinner, we finished up our watching of The Phantom Empire, which is a completely, mind-bendingly bizarre old Gene Autry serial (ca. 1935) featuring singing cowboys, evil scientists in pith helmets, wacko underground empires of the Future!, young rope-twirling rodeo champions on horseback, evil courtiers in the underground empire in Ming-the-Merciless regalia, comic harmonica-playing cowboy sidekicks, Gene Autry engaging in swordplay with robots ... it's pretty amazing. Mr. P. has become totally addicted to old serials lately, bless his heart, and I guess Flash Gordon is up next. But I tell you what, ol' Flash never had any singing cowboys, so the hell with him.
In other news of no import, I went in to the orthopedist for a check-up last week. I was sort of hoping he'd look at my x-rays and say, Well, hey, you know what? We were wrong, this wrist isn't broken at all, let's just take this nasty old cast off! and have a nice day! Instead of which, he told me the cast was too loose and he had it replaced with a snugger-fitting one (damn it). The upside is that the new cast doesn't extend as far out on my hand, which gives me *much* more use of my fingers--I can actually type almost normally now. I'm also going to grab my chance to head out and see if bike-riding is manageable, before the forecasted giganto-thunderstorms roll in. God, I do so love thunderstorms; they're the thing I'll most miss about Minnesota, whenever I finally move on out of here.
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