There hasn't been much variety in weather this late spring into the new summer.  We have gray rainy days.  We have bright windy chilly days.  On weekends we do gray rainy.  On Mondays we do bright windy.

Memorial Day threw us a curve.  No work, no school, outdoor picnics and parades.  Substitute gray rainy for yesterday's expected bright windy.

Today, Tuesday marks the return to the yoke.  It is a beautiful sunny day, the air fresh and sweet.  If it weren't for the wind you wouldn't need a sweater.

This human holiday habit has thrown a crowbar into the gears driving the weather.  Rainy Mondays?  What's next?  We are hoping this will throw the natural order into such chaos that sweet Erin will have a sunny Saturday to get married on in four days' time.

Our Father Who art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy name.  Now let's skip ahead to the important stuff.

Deliver us from brides and their mothers.

Amen.

--)))(((--

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Did you ever have a Friday that was the lint filter of your week?  A day where all of the random problems of the week get stuck, clogging up your flow out into the sunshine to enjoy yourself?

Welcome to my lint filter.  Today's rounds begin on the school playground at 7:30 with my great good friend Connie and her cell phone.  She is going to call my cellphone on her cellphone and laugh at me as I dart hither and thither looking for my elusive ringing AWOL-gone device.  I use it as a watch while I work, because I hate wearing a watch and can't tell time properly by the position of the sun on these cloudy days.

Then I'm going to rush home to wait for a phone call from the store whose website has neither accepted nor rejected my gift order.  The lucky recipient is either going to conclude I don't like him much because no gift purchase has taken place, or he's going to get the think I like him WAY too much because by repeatedly hitting submit on the order and having the same page appear time and time again on my monitor screen I may have sent him an effusive excess of the same perfect gift.  I called the customer service number in between Jean's phonecalls from Mr. WeAreSmitten, but Customer Service decided to call it a night before returning the call the company promised faithfully they would, because they so value my business.  I hope the WeAreSmitten people are better about promises being made on the phone last night.

Then there's the pair of wedding garters the bride is expecting to recieve at the rehearsal tonight.  Why oh why do I procrastinate about these things?  Because I'm never sure I'll do a decent job, although they always turn out just as I want them to, even if I don't have a final product in mind when I start.  Rehearsal starts at six, the garter will be finished as Jean is waiting by our front door with the other violinist, rushing to get to the church on time.

And since University One's first semester Italian class meets during the High School school day and the schools are a half hour apart, I will repeat the same sequence of activity with University Two as I did with U1  so Jean can take the class there while still in high school.  The school district will pay her tuition and books costs and she will end up with 8 college Italian credits before graduating from high school with four years of German study.  A good deal, but my knees get sore from all of the begging this involves, and my arms get tired from pushing it through.  Her school counselor is supposed to handle it, but is "too busy" as she always is.   "Too busy" means something different to this woman than it does to you and me.

A night class is best, but then it will interfere with Monday night rehearsals and Friday night lessons.  Call the violin teacher to reschedule Friday lessons?  Should Jean drop high school classes during the day?  I foresee a day of much bad muzak while cooling my heels on "hold".

Well I'll get some respite during work.  The children are always so calm during periods with the full moon, with only four more days of school before they are free, free, free for the summer.  Let's rumble!

I wish you all a lint-free Friday!

Why is it that time is such a slippery thing?  You know, some weeks drag by for a month or more and some hours fly in minutes.  Friday when my friend Kathy called to get together and I looked ahead and saw days and nights splattered with commitments, duties sprayed across the month of June like paint on a  Jackson Pollack canvas, this morning, Sunday the 6th was pristine.  OK, breakfast conversation was indicated, with a 8:30 pickup time decided upon.  It sounded so pleasant, genteel, civilized.  8:30 was a lot later when we decided on it than it really was this morning.

I am tired.  I want to sleep.  It's noon and I am finished for the day.  Yesterday's fun (weather perfect, everything beautiful, plans went off flawlessly, only good surprise developments) went a lot later than fun usually goes around here and the night was a long night indeed.  This seems to have made last night unnaturally short and the rest of Sunday stretching before me look endless.

Today's plan:  hold funeral for Smudge, valiant reptile, dead in the prime of his life.  Dig hole, put in Smudge's little box, crawl into hole next to it.  Cover everything up and rest.