The Urbane Homestead

More about how busy I am, blah blah blah

I go through these periods where I get too busy to post anything. It's not that I don't have the time to write, or that nothing is happening worth writing about (because really, if I'm strictly honest, very little ever happens that's worth writing about). It's mostly that when I get really, really busy, I don't think about things that are interesting, or I don't think about them deeply enough to have anything to say.

I have a midterm this week, originally due tomorrow. Because work was very busy this week (we had our national two-day conference on Depression on College Campuses) and the professor indicated that he was open to extensions and rescheduling, I emailed a request to turn in my exam Sunday instead. "Extension granted," he replied. "You are a very busy lady this week." To which I thought, "Mah nishtanah ha leila ha this week," or, loosely translated, "And why should this week be different from any other?"

And yet, I'm not so busy that I don't enjoy things. I get to be home (such as it is; is a house without a dog really a home?) a lot and spend plenty of time with Joe and Henry. Spring is here and the yard is waiting. Knitting is getting done. I'm working on my shimsham step on the tapdancing board in the basement. It's just about right.

Oh! my! gawd!

Thinking about our trip to Argentina in June, I decided to do a little advance scouting and see if I could find any yarn shops there. Imagine, if you will, Howard Carter stepping into Tutankamen's tomb for the first time: the catch of breath, the flush of heat as the heartrate increases—in a flash, the blinding awareness that life will never be the same again. That is how I felt when I learned that Buenos Aires has, not just yarn shops, but an ENTIRE YARN DISTRICT.

Covetousness

I really, really want this comic book.

What I'm up to

A quick rundown of this week:
1. Operations Management class: two full days—dawn till dusk—of story problems. (Who could help but think of Gary Larson's Hell's Library, with nothing but books of story problems?) On the plus side I realised I only have about 6 more classes and then I'll be done with the MBA. I thought about turning it into a dual MBA/MIS but decided I'm a little tired of being graded.
2. Reading about Argentinian history and learning Spanish. I discovered a great two-birds-one-stone method: Wikipedia en Español. As you may know Henry sings in the choir at temple; two years ago the choir did an Eastern European tour that was a huge success (meaning that everyone had a great time), so this summer we're going to Argentina.
3. Practicing tap in the basement with Ginger.
4. "Cooking" with Joe.
5. Thinking about dogs.
6. Waiting for spring.
7. Oh, and working.

Love, and death

After we went to pick Walter's ashes up from the vet, I felt much better. I realized I had been worrying that Walter was anxious, or scared, or lonely, and that was because I didn't and couldn't know where he was and so I couldn't take care of him. (Although we did know for sure that his spirit was not haunting the house. Walter was always hypersensitive to any display of sadness or anger; tears or argument or even an overly excited tone of voice would turn him into a trembling basket case. Last week we spent so much time crying that if he had been there, we would surely have seen some kind of ghostly jello action.) Now I know where he is, at least, the part of him that got so weak and tired toward the end, and I can take care of that.

It's a little creepy, I know. But love is a little creepy, too, if it's done right, because it's all about getting a little too close to someone, or letting someone get a little too close to you, past the point where it's safe.