Tuesday, December 26, 2006

1038 To Do List

Tuesday, December 26, 2006

I felt full of energy today. Cleaned the litterbox, cleaned the cat's bathroom, acid treated the guest toilet, repaired the laundry room toilet (bad flap), washed my hair, changed the sheets, washed dishes, made a grocery run, hemmed some pants, and so on. Made barely a dent in the To Do list.

I need to make reservations for a Mensa gathering in Florida in January that my Sister is going to attend with me, locate a GPS thingy for Hercules (he didn't get one for Christmas, so he'll get one for New Year's), pay some bills including the estimated taxes, pull together some numbers for Piper, send a photo of my mother to Daughter so she can render it in watercolor (or whatever medium she chooses) for me, send a note to FirstWoman about the New Year's Eve party (yes, I do want to go). That's for tonight yet. More for tomorrow.

Yesterday I made a bunch of "duty" calls, including Jay's father and May. May sounded really good, made my day, and Dad actually knew who I was right off. (He tends to confuse me with his middle daughter, whose name is similar to mine. On the other hand, he thought he was getting lobster for dinner. I suspect it was chicken.)

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This is Jay's father and his dog, from this year's photo Christmas card. I was there when his eldest daughter took the pictures for the card, and I am surprised and amused that she chose this particular one. The doggie is a very sweet little beastie. That's actually just a yawn. Oh, and that's not Dad's real nose. He lost his real nose to skin cancer about 15 years ago. He got the stick-on nose last year, when there wasn't enough of his own left to support his glasses. He looks pretty good with it on, except that it's a bit too smooth. "Gee, Dad, you've got a 20-year-old's nose!" I believe he will be 90 next year.

Jay's whole family sends the "photo postcard" type card, along with an annual happyshit bragsheet letter. Jay and his ex-wife had gone along with the tradition, but the first Christmas we were married, I refused. I dislike those cards. I did, however, have to do the letter, and I still have to contribute a paragraph to Jay's father's letter. But that's ok.

Now pardon me while I go online shopping. This could be fun. I don't speak GPS.
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