Not to worry. Nothing going on here that a week in a TB sanatorium, followed by a week at the Spa at Banff and A FUNCTIONAL COMPUTER won’t fix.
THE WIDOWER’S BALL
Eugene and Eugene had a lovely time together and I could tell they were the best of friends by the time Gene said, "Bud, when you die somebody’s gonna have a lot of stuff to clean up here." and Bud said, "Gene, please don’t die because then I’ll be the ugliest man on earth." They were two swell heads okay and I didn’t need to talk much, which was good, because I couldn’t. So I chauffeured while Bud sat behind me and told me what speed to go, what that red octagonal sign means and pointed out that I should go right at the sign that says Gratiot Lake. As Gene would say, hoo boy. He sat up front with me to see the sights and at this time of year that includes a lot of black snow along the road. The road commission uses old mine filings- ground up slag- to sand the roads and come Spring everybody has to shovel 2-3 feet of it out of their front yard just to find the lawn. Gene said, "No offense, but this is kinda depressing around here." He changed his tune once we got past Calumet and out into the woods where Lost Loon Lodge is located and also over along Lake Superior. Superior is deep blue and vast; it never fails to get a thrill out of me and I know Gene was duly impressed, too. As we drove along Lake Superior I felt the sharpest pang of longing for my mother thus far. That’s where she lived, heart and soul, and there are places up there that will remain, without development, for you and me to enjoy forever, thanks to her.
Hoss was the perfect house guest, never once complaining about the lack of a toilet and enjoying the cats as they paraded across his lap. At one point Bud suggested he move up there and Hoss said that was an idea and I thought to myself, that sounds like Episode 3 of this year’s Oscar winning film, let’s get out of here. In any case, they were both very pretty.
________________________ALL EVIDENCE TO THE CONTRARY, I’M FINE. TOMORROW
I was not so pretty. My resistance has been down between all of the events of the past month and too many airplanes and the change of seasons. I went up with a riproaring case of allergy induced bronchitis but ended up with bacterial pneumonia- as soon as I finish my fourth quart of Robitussin, 2nd Z-pak and three rounds of monistat I’ll be in great shape. Then I can go in and have my dentist scrape my tongue with a bobcat. I’m spoiled because I haven’t been sick for four or five years so this is a drag. The good news is I’m well enough to work (my father always said, "If you’re not dead, you’re well enough to work" ) so now it’s payback for all those clients who have dragged their green nosed bilious children in here for years and years. The most outwardly alarming thing is I have no voice-literally- but yesterday that worked in my favor.
When my computer screen started fritzing and sparking 10 days ago I called Apple and they generously extended my warranty for 48 hours so I could send it in to get fixed. And they sent me a shipping box and a pre-paid label and said 3-5 days and it was all very nice. Being the queen of optimism I never backed anything up so I quickly rushed to put a couple things on this crummy foreign pc laptop I’ve been poking at before I mailed off my PowerBook. No matter- I can’t access them. So all my business is on that sick G4 at the Apple Hospital and it’s now been almost two weeks. They are out of logic and I need new logic. None to be found- wait! there’s one piece of logic in Sri Lanka and it will be here shortly, about two more weeks. Yesterday, overdosed on Robitussin (cheap sick date, some people need Nyquil to get weird), I decided to call Apple Support and cry. It seemed like as good a plan as any. After about three agents who couldn’t make out a word I wasn’t saying I got Ben. Ben was able to understand that a) all of my very important papers and documents are on that computer and b) I am very very very sick. If he put things together to take it that I’m terminal and my last will and testament is on my G4 that is not because I led him down that path. I did not. Perhaps it was that he just wanted to get me to stop croaking in his ear like a sobbing bullfrog. Anyway, the next offer on the table was: my old computer, hard drive intact, returned. A brand new state-of-the-art Mac Book Pro with Intel inside, warranty included. A waiver for me to sign saying I will load all my work onto the new computer and send them the old one to throw away in the prepaid box.Deal or no deal? Huh.
In the meantime, while I wait for that shiny new toy, the to-do list grows. SRP and Momma K graced- and I mean graced- this place with their presence in my absence and that warrants a souvenir. They wrote beautiful and generous words and those blue eyes! Jane sent me three discs of the best music ever from this month’s mixmania. It’s a woman after my own heart who puts Moxy Fruvous and Josh Groban together. And Bonnie needs something from FU (that would be Finlandia University in the U.P)…
Everything in it’s time. I’ve been doing nothing but working and sleeping but today I think I’ll take a slow walk around the neighborhood and see if you’re around. By this weekend, look out garden!
Oo-oo! Tomorrow, especially for those of you who have put off finishing your taxes, be sure to tune in here. I will have tax advice better than any you could buy from a CPA or H &R Block! Tomorrow’s post:
TAX SEASON AT THE BUD AND JAN SHOW!