When they see us coming the birdies all try and hide

This morning, LD made waffles using her waffle iron and the mixer I got her for Christmas.  She put cheese and bacon in the waffle batter and we tried to fry eggs in the waffle iron on top of the waffles, which was perhaps a mixed success.

We went for a walk to small city park with fountains and a small lake, taking along Dog and Dumb Dog.  The later barked his high-pitched, hysterical bark at the ducks and geese, and even ran at the heron, who lazily flapped across the lake when he approached.  At last, he jumped into the very cold water to chase the ducks, but since he was on a leash, he didn't get very far.

On the way back, we saw a coyote wandering past some houses, right there in broad open daylight. DD barked and pulled at the coyote, who was very chill for a feral beast.  He padded around, looking for an exit, and then just curled up in  somebody's flower bed right by the driveway.  He looked at us languidly, with no apparent concern, as four humans and two dogs (one yelping and straining) passed on the other side of the street.

When we got home, Crab and I washed both dogs in the tub.  Wet dog doesn't smell very good but once they dried it was a real improvement.  Which it better be, because washing two large dogs is a laborious, wet ordeal, and not at all the comic craziness of movies and TV ads.

Let the new night bring you peace and the promise of tomorrow

Hey, we had dinner with 74 and Zaftig again!  Crab, Cake, and K Jr wanted a playdate with their kids, Nora and D, so LD brought them over, and I drove over there a bit later.  74 cooked fried chicken; he is a quite talented amateur cook.

Later, when the adults were out on their patio with the fire going (despite the fact that it was cold as David's marble balls out there), Zaftig brought up the issue of getting Kraut dating again.  This is an awkward subject but a consummation devoutly to be wished on all fronts, including mine, as it would reassure everyone that he was really All Right and at least somewhat happy.  And I do want Kraut to be happy.

Zaftig said that he is on all the traditional dating sites, but is having a great deal of trouble finding anyone.  This I cannot understand.  Yes, he has three kids and is separated, both of which are probably minuses in the dating world.  But he is tall and well-educated and foreign and well-traveled and makes fairly good money and has a cute accent. Yes, he is also a bit crazy and prone to having no filter, telling others with alacrity about his blurry marital status and stint in a mental hospital.  But surely those impulses can be reined in for dating purposes until his good nature shines through?  And he really does have a good nature.

As LD and I said, if the drama teacher at Prestigius, a King Dork if there ever was one, can get dates, then anyone can.  Of course, I don't think Drama Teacher is particular about looks or weight, and he wants Friends with Benefits arrangements, which Kraut doesn't.

Anyway.  Here's hoping he gets an OK Cupid like or whatever it is.

Around ten, we left, taking Cake and Crab.  K Jr asked to spend the night, and his dad would pick him up in the morning for some Boy Scout religious ceremony.  Cake and Crab are not allowed to spend the night because of an epic meltdown Crab had a few months ago while staying with Nora.  I had to come get her at 2:00 a.m. in the morning.  She just wanted to be home.  So now she isn't allowed to not be home at night.

We still have half a chance

Tonight, LD and I were sans kids, so we went out to dinner at an Indian restaurant with 74 and Zaftig, showing conclusively that, pace this post, I am not and probably will never be "fucking done with those people."  I guess it's good to have friends, even if there remains an undercurrent of uncertainty born of judgmental finger-wagging and melodrama.

The restaurant is one LD and I had been to once before (with Muffin and her husband, who seems to have no name on this blog; can that be right?  I shall name him Big Red).  It has very high quality food and polite, if unexceptional, service from the Indians who staff the place.  This night, however, we were served by a rather haggard-looking Euro-American woman who looked as though she should be slinging hash at an truck stop.  And she did her job as though she would be fired from an IHOP.  She failed to bring me tea until the end of the meal and was very lackluster with other orders.  But that is all minor and forgivable; her attitude was pretty terrible.  She said, "I haven't drank any of those cocktails" when asked for a recommendation,and when 74 asked how her New Year was, she grumpily replied, "I had to work."

She brought the celebratory atmosphere down a few degrees, but we all tipped 20% or more anyway.  I mean, we're not monsters.

Speaking of money, the bill was very high.  We quartered it, and everyone's share was $50.  LD and I shared an entree and I only had tea, so I think the restaurant charged us for the bottle of wine that Zaftig ordered and then sent back as unpalatable.  74 and Zaftig, being rather flush with cash, don't much notice a few hundred dollars here and there, but for us upper-middle-class working stiffs, these things add up, and we end up thinking about such situations hours later and then writing about them in our little anonymous, kvetching blogs.

Lately I've been in a life like limbo, looking out of a smudged up window

Yesterday's answer was: Tom Waits, "Time."  Kurt got it right.

***

I got a tea ball and some loose leaf tea grown and packed in China.  I love the tea ball!  I'm a tea baller now.  I'm ballin' tea right now.

***

"Sweetie, I love you, but your tendency to blow things out of proportion is not something I can deal with when we are not together." --- text from LD

Reasonable brain: "She's right. I should get a sense of perspective."

Sad sensitive brain: "Then don't send me passive aggressive, annoyed texts that you know will set me off in the first place, you jerk!"

Real brain: [wisely does not reply at all]

***

Mr. Richard, the science teacher, and I have set up an after-school class.  Well, "class" is stretching it. It is an hour-long outdoor game activity.  We thought up variants of different playground games, and are letting first- and second-graders go wild with them.  For this we are getting paid $60 each.

In some ways I have it unreasonably good.

Well she said she'd stick around until the bandages came off

Ten years have gone by.

When I started this blog, I was an adult, but so young.

I was coy about my age, but now I am middle and there is no denying it.

My hair is streaked with grey.

My relationship is not where I want it to be and is still precarious and uncertain.  Some days it is heaven and some days it just seems like pain.

I am very much a younger sibling, a hurt and torn child, the product of a childhood that was composed of derisive stares and mockery.  I am needy and demanding and --- now, in a total reversal --- prone to breaking down in tears at setbacks.

Is this a dream or a prayer?

I haven't become emo.  It's just a meditation.  More tomorrow, or in a week, or in ten years.