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May 27, 2002
a year ago
three years ago
four years ago

Moths, Target Run, and Herb Box

2:27 am: The moths gather thick by the light by the staircase. When I hurry up them to a crying Jet their wings beat against me, a hard rattle, dry and brittle. Their dust leaves dark shadows on the white walls. Like dead leaves resurrected by the wind to dance under their own power, as erratic in life as they were in death.

7:39 pm: It's very nice to be able to breathe today. There isn't quite the weight of stuff in my lungs. I'm glad of that. I am also glad that Jet only got up once last night, just to eat and he went right back to sleep. He looks really cute in the middle of a full-sized futon, so tiny in the midst of it.

Jet had a really great day today. He's clearly recovered nicely from his cold. John now has the cold, but it has only claimed his nose, thank goodness. I hope that with plenty of sleep it won't progress too much further with him. John doesn't usually get the lung consequences I get, and I'll even admit that here, in the dry country, when things do hit my lungs it's easier on me.

So John got a complete night of sleep and I felt him get up around 6:15 this morning and it was pretty obvious that he'd gotten up because he couldn't sleep anymore and not because Jet was up. I slept in until 8, and when I did get up, we headed out to find some breakfast. Surprisingly, to us, at least, pretty much every good breakfast joint was completely full, before 9 am! My.

We ended up at a Pioneer Pie, which wasn't very good, but Jet enjoyed the completely new place. He studied everything. He also talked up a storm, yelled at the neighboring table until they paid attention to him, and then he was coy when they were talking to him. It's probably the noisiest he's ever been in a restaurant. He also insisted on drinking his orange juice with a spoon. But Jet did manage to eat half a pancake, half of one of my pieces of French Toast, and every bit of bacon we handed him. He seems to have his appetite back.

From there we hit Target, and bought Jet some shelves with bins for his toys so he can reach them without having to dig everything out of his toy box. He can also, eventually, put some of them away, too. We also bought him two big, plastic bibs, like the one that Cathie and Walt bought him from Harrods. That's what we intended to do, that is, and the moment that Jet stepped into the store he was running. He loved the smooth floors, and he just took off.

At first, we were able to get him to push the cart, eventhough the lowest rack was so far down that he had to be nearly horizontal to the ground to get a handhold and push. He barreled along, and pushed and pushed and pushed and we had to be really good about directing the cart. But then he got distracted and darted away in a completely different direction down one of the aisles. John and I traded off who would be figuring out what to buy and who was following Jet down whatever aisle he'd chosen. We could kind of herd him in a particularly direction, but he got mad whenever we stopped him or if we turned him around. So we went through a lot of three left or three right turns, which he didn't mind at all.

Jet was running the whole time. I found the bibs for cheap, and then John had to ask for directions to find the bins. So I chased Jet through the vacuums and other cleaning implements around and around and then into the home improvement area with all the tables, lamps, and furniture. Then when John headed for the checkout area, Jet and I roamed through the girl's clothing, the socks, and then into and around the snack area. Jet did stop to stare at a family eating lunch. I was glad that Jet didn't decide to grab everything off the shelves, though he did stop to try and pull off a bunch of hanging vacuum bags. He seems to really like hanging items.

Finally, after a constant chase through the store, I was able to pick him up and he didn't protest at all. I carried him to the car and strapped him in and he protested mildly, the whole way to Safeway, where I ran in while John stayed with Jet, and I bought some sandwich bread and tomatoes. He was still kicking when I got back and the whole way home. Jet would only be content when he could hold and drink from my water bottle. He didn't want to just drink, though, he would get a mouthful of water and then spit it out all over himself. So he pretty much soaked himself. It was hot enough it probably felt good.

After a week with snow and grey skies, it was in the mid-70's today. The coming week is supposed to be in the 80's. It really is summer.

Of course, a quarter of a mile from home, Jet fell asleep. So we just tucked him into his warm room and let him sleep. There were a few things I had to straighten out, including a last minute realization that the diaper service was picking up today, and then I went to bed, too, but Jet only slept an hour before waking up mad because he was *still* soaked. So I stripped him of his wet clothing, nursed him, and when I thought he'd go back to sleep, he woke himself up and started playing again. John was great and took care of him and let me nap for an hour.

Then I took over, so that John could do some things around the yard. Like at Target, Jet was, again, in constant motion. He was climbing the couch, climbing the footstool, running around the table, pushing around the chairs, when he found the gate open to the upstairs, he instantly started climbing the stairs. So I followed him up and then we stayed upstairs for a while, playing with his bath toys, with the office toys, and then with the air cleaner in his room.

We headed down again and Jet slid down the stairs almost faster than I could go down backwards in front of him to catch him if he fell. Then we were around the livingroom again, and he got frustrated while trying to pull his Tonka truck out of his wagon. So I pulled it out for him, and he was zooming around the house with his huge, yellow Tonka truck, ramming it into walls, furniture, and me.

Eventually, I let a few moths out the door, and Jet immediately ran out onto the porch, turned around, climbed down the stairs and onto the driveway. John was out, still, and he came over to talk with me about what to do about the landscaping. With the drought, we're only supposed to water twice a week, new grass is pretty much out. We'll do something else, though, and it should actually cut down on the amount of grass we have.

Jet, in the meantime was running across the 'grass', the driveway, and whenever he ran out onto the gravel he'd take three steps, realize it was hurting his bare feet, and then cry. We let him try it three times and on the fourth, he avoided the gravel cleverly. Smart boy. He ran around and around, and eventually persuasion didn't work, so I had to carry him, protesting, inside. We ended up playing with the huge bear for a while and then he was content to just sit next to me and watch Follow That Food with me on the Food Network. I like that show.

Eventually, Jet got to nurse again and he napped again. I was glad as with only an hour's nap he was getting cranky early, again. So he went to sleep and John and I got to dig up the area for my old wood box. The wind picked up then, too, and was whipping so madly it was hard to pour dirt into the box, as the wind would carry a bunch of it away. In the midst of all that I heard the ice cream truck chimes, and I ran and caught the ice cream truck and the guy in it grinned and said, "Hello, little girl, can I get you an ice cream?"

I had to laugh and said, "Yes, please." I got the same things John got last time and let him pick this time. So we ate ice cream on the lee side of the house, and then John did his stuff around the yard while I finished putting together the herb box with the rosemary, marjoram, and parsley. I ran out of potting soil after just those three, so the garlic chives will have to wait for another day, and I wanted to let the basil have some time to get used to the sunshine before I move that outside. I may not move it at all, we'll have to see; but the chives will probably do better outside.

When I was getting the plants into the box, Jet woke up. John was finished with what he was doing, so he took care of Jet. Though it didn't take that much doing, as Jet sat on the other side of the door/window to the porch where I was working and John said, later, that every time I went by with water or something, Jet would laugh and cheer. He also watched me, very closely, as I repotted the African Violets.

The violets really needed to be in something larger than what they had been in, and the extra earth I'd put on top of them had actually damaged the older leaves. So I peeled off the older leaves, got the doubled up plant separated and gave them a lot more room in shallow, wide pot that I'd had very happy African Violets in when we were in Redmond. They'd all frozen on the move here, but I loved the pot and there was plenty of room for the plants I have. I think they'll be happier, now.

So lots of plant wrangling today, and I was very glad that I felt up to it all. I don't think I would have believed I would have been yesterday.

After all that the Aves and the Red Wings were playing their fifth game, and it was a super game. Finally the defense was back on track and Roy was only have to make just as many saves as Hasek instead of twice as many and the team was just that much more in synch. Forsberg was just really hot, but everyone was digging in to give him the opportunities that he got. I was very impressed. It wasn't quite a back to the wall kid of game, but they played, finally, as if it were.

I made dinner while it was going on, and just sauteed onions, garlic, and some of the roasted peppers with Italian sausage, tomatoes, and some tomato sauce, and then tossed it with big tube pasta, added fresh basil from my herb box, and a cup of shredded mozzarella which melted nicely and got gooey and stringy. Yum.

Jet ate nearly three-quarters of a cup of cut up pasta. Woo. It was so nice to just cut up some of our food and have him just eat it, sausage, vegetables, and all. John got seconds, and I have enough leftovers for a lunch or two, as there was just too much sauce for the amount of pasta involved. Afterwards we had strawberry shortcake for dessert, and watched the overtime.

It was so intense, and so very short. I was glad that it worked out the way it did. It was very strange to see the two initial attackers taken over to the side only to see two more Avalanche players on the open side with no one on them. I have on idea what would have caused a four on two breakaway, but it's what it looked like. I was very impressed by Forsberg's patience on that final shot, and how he popped it so simply over Hasek's shoulder. Wow.

I feel much better about the Avalanche's chances, now. Even the home sports analysis folks were predicting it would be the Red Wings in seven, but I guess no one told Forsburg. Hee. The way it ought to be.

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