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: Yesterday, I ran all the pipe for the sprinkler systems in the front and side yards and installed my antique crusher chain on posts around the curve at the northeast corner of the yard. I also sold my red truck to Marlene and Chuck Bursell. (I'm sad, sad, sad to see it go.)

I attended a baby shower for Michelle (Cumberworth) Calderon, but had to give her an IOU for the nightgown I am making her since my hands were too sore to sew. By the end of the day that I had to take one of the pain pills Dr. Patel gave me after my hysterectomy. I never took even one of them, post surgery, but my elbow is in such agony I couldn't sleep. Just for the record, how badly does my arm hurt? As bad as a broken bone. As a matter of fact, I've never taken painkillers for broken bones, either, or for childbirth, but boy I needed it last night.

Today I had lunch after class with Hillary Neumeister and then I bought a different kind of elbow brace and another [different kind of] tendon pressurizer at Big 5. (Now, doesn't that sound like some sort of Adolph's one would sprinkle on a pot roast?)

Marlene and Chuck came over to get the truck and we did the DMV stuff and changed the license plates over. I retained my BYU Alumni frame, but it is really thrashed. Truth be told, the license plates are thrashed too, but oh well. I baked some brownies to take to the Boy Scouts tonight but I burned them. (Drat-- I was baking a pan for me too!) Axeman came to visit me, bringing his lovely niece Lisa instead of Edward, and then I went to the Scout troop meeting to do a merit badge clinic in environmental science. Seven boys were in attendance: Davin Amundsen, Joey Nations, Joseph DeLuna, Joe Cumberworth, Travis Whitten, Curtis Smith, and Matt Mitchell. We did three of the requirements and I made them commit to goals for all the others. This, I am pleased to report, I did without pulling any teeth although I thought at times I would have to. They are to bring me a recycling survey by Sunday and a report on an endangered species by next week; then, some other time I will do the oil spill lab with them. The habitat study I think they will need to do on a campout, so maybe I can talk the Scoutmaster into letting me and Gretel come camping with them. Ya think? I believe the particulate lab, the soil erosion study, and the ecosystem they can do at home, but I suspect I'll have to ride some of them to get it done. Matthew claims he did all this in third grade, and I'm sure he did, but if he can't produce his work, he is going to have to do another report. Travis sez he already has this merit badge. Yeah, right. Like he already had his Gospel in Action Award and already had been baptized. Then he's been granted early admission to MIT, too. I've been THERE before. Working with these Boy Scouts, I wonder how I survived teaching junior high all those years. Well, they are a cute group, and they should be allowed to blow off a little steam at Scouts.

The book I ordered for tomorrow night's book discussion from Amazon.com has not arrived. Supposedly it was shipped long ago. It's Joseph Ellis's The Founding Brothers, and rumor has it that it reads like a textbook, not like a novel. That's okay... I don't read that many novels anyhow, but it looks like I won't read this book at all for the discussion because it didn't come today. Karen Nations phoned me in a panic wanting discussion suggestions, but I couldn't help her because of no book. I suggested we just discuss a little, consume something chocolate, and continue the same book for next month.

Also tonight I hugged Karen Olson and we talked at some length about how her (deceased) son Trevor must be feeling about Barry Bonds's home run record. I wonder how that works, in the next life? Surely he would be allowed just a little peek at the Giants, if only because his hero is doing so well. The Giants, as the world knows, and as Justin, the other alto sax player keeps reminding me, dropped out of playoff contention long ago, and I am highly disappointed. Hillary is getting out her old Yankees shirt, so I had to stick my tongue out at her.


© 2001-2006 Frances Whitney.