Re-read this morning's entry and couldn't stop squirming and laughing at the same time: SHUT UP YOU WHINY LOSER! And, thank you, coffee.
Back to feeling like one of the luckiest people I know. Have you met my husbands, kids, friends? Have you seen my awesome house, neighborhood, town? Did you take a look at the souls in the IRL column on the left? I try very hard to keep my good fortune and the outlook that should accompany it at the front of my mind.
I am writing from the side of the pool, via my trusty laptop and wifi, while watching my two youngest bounce in our own pool. The pool is shady but the day is warm and my deck, with its garlands of pepper trees, jacaranda, and matilja poppies, is breezy and delightful. I can see Hoover Tower as I type.
Iz will join us in a minute, after she closes out an episode of The Simpsons, the viewing of which is a reward for cleaning up after Mali ferreted out and exploded a box of band aids.
This morning I had coffee with my friends and my auntie. We laughed a lot. They told me that I am a scary person to confront. I told them that I see myself as a friendly puppy. They laughed even more. Jo and JP couldn't make it, but hopefully they'll be there next week. Then again, Summer starts in two days, and all of our schedules will unfurl in unpredictable and not necessarily interlocking patterns.
Mali is throwing diveys into the pool, and Leelo is retrieving them. Leelo came over to deck Mali, I told her to run away, and she did, for the first time. Lots of praise for Mali! And no one got hit!
After coffee, I took my auntie to get our toes bespangled. Really, I should be cleaning my house and working, but it was also my last free morning of the year with any wiggle room whatsoever. My last opportunity to give into the spontaneous and the frivolous. How many people even have that choice? My toes are now blingity-bling gold. The woman who sat on the pedicure throne next to me was a dancer, with a dancer's body. As we chatted amiably, I realized with a snort that in that case, I must be a writer with a writer's body.
Iz is here now. She accepted with good humor my denial of her request to swim naked, as our neighbor's windows overlook the swimming hole.
After toes, I went to get chocolate for Badger, whose birthday I'd neglected. Ep was in the parking lot, and we chatted about the success of Merlin's school year and how much he loves his teacher. Then I retrieved the girls from their respective schools, and delivered the goods to Badger's office. While basking in the air con, we got to see both my dear Jenijen and her boss. If La Stone ever decides to hold a seminar on interpersonal skills, diplomacy, and how to make people fall in love with you instantly, I will be there.
Mali is now bundled up in a towel that she retrieved from the closet herself. Leelo got his own towel, too. Iz, who came out here on her own and who is still learning the practical aspects of self-reliance, is up the creek.
Piano practice for Iz. Her instructor gave her some sheet music to take home and copy. Its notation makes sense, but as the title is in Russian we don't yet actually know the name of the tune she's playing. It is beautiful, though.
Iz, bobbing in the pool, says she can tell how much she has grown by comparing the position of her nose to the surface of the water and her tip toes. And if I want to see something amazing, she can hold her breath underwater for a count of six.
The girls drank too much juice. They can't make it all the way home from piano practice without stopping at Jennyalice's. And only Jennyalice's. Our friend let us in for two impromptu pit stops and five minutes of back-and-forth braindumping, reminding me why I only make friends with people who kick ass.
Leelo just took off his trunks and rashie and tossed them on the side of the pool. "He's really skinnydipping now!" says Iz. Mali wants to deposit her cold wet bottom on my lap. Nyet. I tell her to examine one of the mummified lizards our cats keep stored on the back deck.
We arrive home. I could clean up the house and do laundry, or I could give into the moment and the kids' requests, and let them go swimming.
I give in.