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hobgoblinnStill in the job search. Meh. At least one application has generated contact with references, so that's a hopeful sign. And an old Miami colleague invited me to a business advisory board luncheon for a local business college and said she would also pass on my resume and put in a good word for me for a teaching position there.
I have been clearing up clutter-- not boxes worth this time, but table tops collect a surprising amount when not policed regularly. The effort staves off depression, and it lifts my mood to have cleaner surroundings. I moved my base of operations from my cave of a bedroom desk to the living room, which also helps.
Last night I got out to the final rehearsal for the Advent Lessons and Carols service; another good thing. It was the one year anniversary of K's death, and after, when her husband G made a point to thank me for being at the rehearsal and waved off my apologies for not being more regular in attendance, I hugged him and told him I'd been thinking of him today. He told me he still remembered how I came out to the hospice the night she died and helped out with the kids. I hadn't realized such an act-- too little too late, and I've always felt guilty for that-- had made such an impression. I felt sad for the family. I can't imagine what it would be like, losing my Beloved. Or, because I am a writer possessed of unusually good imagination, I kind of can. Just don't want to.
And then when I got home, Sam, my idiot cat, brought me a mouse, carrying it to me like a retriever dog expecting praise. He dropped it at my feet, where, because it still had a little play in it, it disappeared behind the litterbox and into a wooden birdhouse Wee Hob had made that was lying back there.
Wee Hob was most excited. But I took it outside and told him we were not allowed to have more pets. This one was a little injured, but he had managed to disappear by this morning, so maybe he found a warmer hole. I think he came in through an open balcony door earlier in the season, but I haven't seen any signs of him since then, so I thought he'd gone out again. Wee Hob named him "Munchy" then and was very resistant to my efforts to locate and remove the little creature.
Hopefully he does not have a back entrance somewhere I don't know about. He certainly could have easily lived in here since the last warm weather. I'm surprised Sam could even catch it. In case I have not mentioned, he is not very bright.
That's all the news from me. Hope all's well in your worlds. 16 days, 2 hours and 59 minutes until my Beloved arrives here for Christmas.
I have been clearing up clutter-- not boxes worth this time, but table tops collect a surprising amount when not policed regularly. The effort staves off depression, and it lifts my mood to have cleaner surroundings. I moved my base of operations from my cave of a bedroom desk to the living room, which also helps.
Last night I got out to the final rehearsal for the Advent Lessons and Carols service; another good thing. It was the one year anniversary of K's death, and after, when her husband G made a point to thank me for being at the rehearsal and waved off my apologies for not being more regular in attendance, I hugged him and told him I'd been thinking of him today. He told me he still remembered how I came out to the hospice the night she died and helped out with the kids. I hadn't realized such an act-- too little too late, and I've always felt guilty for that-- had made such an impression. I felt sad for the family. I can't imagine what it would be like, losing my Beloved. Or, because I am a writer possessed of unusually good imagination, I kind of can. Just don't want to.
And then when I got home, Sam, my idiot cat, brought me a mouse, carrying it to me like a retriever dog expecting praise. He dropped it at my feet, where, because it still had a little play in it, it disappeared behind the litterbox and into a wooden birdhouse Wee Hob had made that was lying back there.
Wee Hob was most excited. But I took it outside and told him we were not allowed to have more pets. This one was a little injured, but he had managed to disappear by this morning, so maybe he found a warmer hole. I think he came in through an open balcony door earlier in the season, but I haven't seen any signs of him since then, so I thought he'd gone out again. Wee Hob named him "Munchy" then and was very resistant to my efforts to locate and remove the little creature.
Hopefully he does not have a back entrance somewhere I don't know about. He certainly could have easily lived in here since the last warm weather. I'm surprised Sam could even catch it. In case I have not mentioned, he is not very bright.
That's all the news from me. Hope all's well in your worlds. 16 days, 2 hours and 59 minutes until my Beloved arrives here for Christmas.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-04 03:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-04 04:40 pm (UTC)Yes, it does indeed. Funny, last night our Fearless Leader Bob Schaffer said that when the idea first came up to do a Lessons and Carols, he didn't know anything about how to put one together (since it's more an Anglican tradition.) The bishop at the time said, "Talk to your wife." Rita was then the organist for a Cincinnati Episcopal Church. They've maintained a mixed marriage, as it were, for over 50 years.
Blessed Advent to you, Padre.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-04 04:49 pm (UTC)I performed Lessons and Carols my last year of college with the Chapel Choir, and I miss it greatly. I have a recording of the Kings College Choir in Cambridge performing it, and I just love it. It's a shame the recording is so quiet, but it's a favorite anyway.
Oh, and . . .
Date: 2008-12-04 03:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-04 03:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-12-04 04:54 pm (UTC)Here's to hopes for a happier year (and for mice who know their place).