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prev home archive next Momentary Thought I forgot to mention here that another pro about living in Arizona is that there's no foolish mucking around with Daylight Savings Time. I do have to remember that at various times of the year we're either even with California or 1 hour ahead, alternating with being even with New Mexico or one hour behind... You know, this whole DST thing is seriously inconvenient, even if your state *doesn't* participate. High/Low High: Last night with Marie, and the motorcycle was successfully delivered. Low: Buffy repeats for as far as the eye can see. Plus, the toilet is running constantly. (Readers: "You'd better go catch it!" Gah. Hush, you.) I had to turn off the water source because my handyman is a thousand miles away right now and jiggling the handle didn't work. That's as technical and competent as I get with plumbing. Current Obsession Countdown to Calvin: 2 sleeps down, 3 to go. Grin Source An *awful* joke a co-worker sent to me. Storyteller Bio Dramatis Personnae Who I Read Recipes |
I like the relationship I have with Marie. And I said as much to Calvin this morning on the phone - "Hey, you know, I like your kid!" We had a really nice night last night. And a nice night the evening before, too. And we'll probably have a nice night tonight, going to the library and perhaps walking the dogs. When Calvin's away we spend time together doing quiet stuff, and end up enjoying ourselves immensely (or at least, I enjoy it - but if she doesn't, she's not letting on). We talk, and that's what I appreciate the most. We talk like equals, like friends, and I think that's what *she* appreciates. Because she's very intelligent, and quite well grounded for her age (she hates that "for her age" disclaimer, I'm sure). So to talk down to her or behave like there's certain things she won't understand "until she's older" is highly insulting to her. I think I benefit from coming into her life when she was older. It prevented me from sticking her into a "little girl" cubbyhole in my perception. I'm able to treat her like a person, and like a friend. I also am concerned for her well-being and try to parent her as best I can in a role-model kind of way. It's an interesting concept of maternal friendship. Last night she chose to go with me to drop off the insurance payment for the motorcycle. I asked her if she wanted to get some coffee, and we went to a sweet little place called The Coffee Grounds. It's nestled in a quiet neighborhood on a lake (yes, we have those in Arizona - but this one is man-made, and HUGE with ritzy houses along it). The building itself is teeny, but there's a patio surrounded by vines and trees hung with twinkley lights, and a lower patio with seating right next to the lake. They serve a full dinner menu on Friday and Saturday nights, with live music trending toward quiet jazz. We got a couple of mochas and some biscotti, and sat near the lake. We chatted and giggled and watched the ducks. We talked about how nice it would be to own one of the houses on the lake. We talked about school and her friends, and how she wants her dad to pick her up at school on his motorcycle. We talked about how different life is in Arizona compared to life in Maine. And how hard it would be for her to move away, like many of her friends are, just as she's finding her place in her school's society. We just sat and listened to the quiet and relaxed. And she said, "See? Sometimes there are little pockets of peace in our life." I appreciated that statement so much. Little pockets of peace. She's right. |