I just spent a half an hour using Lotus Notes to schedule this week. That is the sort of week it is going to be.

It almost seems to be some evil alignment of chores and appointments, of emotions and drama all occurring at one time.

Someone has plugged one of those nasty air-fresheners into a wall of my room-of-my-own. It smells like a toilet here now.

I suspect either The Father or The Girl.

They both know that I am allergic to these gizmos.

So much for it being my a-room-of-my-own.

On a family note, tonight is The Girl’s first night in her new room, complete with the refurbished canopy bed. I can only remember how much I loved that bed ( god, it’s exquisitely girly-girly) and gather that she does as well.

It really is a special bed. I like seeing it up again, it brings a nostalgic sense of home to mind.

I hope that she loves it as I did.

Rumor has it that on March 8 we can pick up our puppies.

So prepare yourself for ( awww ! ) puppy pics on March 8.

And am I excited ? You better believe it ! Next weekend we will borrow Mr.Jo’s trailer and load up on puppy supplies, and then try to puppy-proof our poor kitchen in Brabant.

My maternal grandmother seriously resembled Mae West, except for the fact that she had red hair ( via Bo-Beep Bleach. I don’t know what Bo-Peep Bleach is, but I seriously suspect it is something that one uses -used- to unclog drains)

She just came to mind, as ghosts do, late at night. I used to love going to visit her. She couldn’t cook worth shit ( neither could my other grandmother, Bucky. Her specialty was oatmeal, I kid you not ), so we ate a lot of hard salami from Kowalski’s. She gave me her secret recipe, the one that pulled the family through the Depression, for making bootleg Scotch : use Coke syrup for the coloring.

She also took part in all of those Flapper sort of things, like dance marathons.

While I admired both of my grandmothers, Bucky and Frenchy, I’m mighty happy that the cherubs have grandmothers of the classic sort, who make soup, cookies, who have normal, grandmotherly names.

The last two days we have been having the most beautiful weather- it almost feels like Spring, I almost feel like going out into the yard and communing with Nature.

Almost, but not quite.

Instead I have been hit with a hankering to get a webcam. Perhaps it is because we will be getting puppies shortly – Awww– but on second thought, then I would actually have to clean the kitchen once in a blue moon. And it might catch me, scurrying about in one or another of my Lanzes.

Or perhaps it is because with days of fine weather come the bus loads of camera clacking tourists, and I would love to set up a camera snapping them. Rather a tit-for-tat camera.

And so, on this very sunny day, I have been looking into webcams ( only to find that the one that I want doesn’t seem to be available in Europe) and trying to figure out how one sets up a wireless network.

After all, any work that I do in the yard will simply be a waste of time and energy as long as Mr.Jo is here, doing all of those handyman type things that he does.

Oppose Bush’s War on American Women

Dr. Hager’s views of reproductive health care are far outside the mainstream of setback for reproductive technology. Dr. Hager is a practicing OB/GYN who describes himself as “pro-life” and refuses to prescribe contraceptives to unmarried women.

Go and read the rest of the article. I find it frightening.

It is nice to have The Father back. He balances out my rather melodramatic edges. This morning we were talking about the transport lines going through the Netherlands.

His attitude : Rivers, shmivers. There are trains, boats, and trucks. The same thing happened during the Golf War. So what.

Indeed.

( But still… )

We live next to a large river. We are affected by it’s risings and falling. This town has always been affected by the river. When it rises too high, our yard becomes…spongy. It is why our town became a garrison, it is why the Nazi’s blew up the church behind my house, the city hall a few doors down. We are strategically placed, so to say, on the Maas.

And so it was with a surprising sense of relief that I read that the transport of US Military items via the rivers only involved the Rhine and the Waal. Oh yes, it is not just the Dutch railroads which are involved.

Karan’s post does not begin to express the shock that I feel having this so…close to home. Imagine if they were using the Maas. The Maas is only a matter of meters away from where I bought some excellent pork cutlets today at our butcher’s. Imagine, boats filled with military equipment going by so very close to your hearth, tanks and Hummers and things that I don’t recognize. Just right there, going by, water fowl scavenging for food in the background.

Within meters of my little fairy-tale town.

( You do realize it’s the beloved’s first day home after being gone for over a week. I can’t really sit behind the computer today, can I ? Must be sociable, mustn’t I ? Hear the details of his trip and tell him all of those oh-so-cute stories about the kids- you know, those ones that leave non-relatives slack jawed and staring at one with unblinking eyes. Do things together.

Perhaps tomorrow. Yes, perhaps tomorrow I can hide away in my little-room-of-my-own again and sit behind my computer.)

How to paralyze me into silence.

Easier than you imagined, no ?