I was up with the sun this morning. Well, not quite with the sun, but definitely before the sun had warmed any part of my house. In the chill of a Saturday morning at eight, even the dogs refused to chase sunbeams, choosing instead to snuggle deeper into the covers on the bed, and look at me hopefully as I moved about the room, as if to beg, “You're coming back to bed, aren't you?”
But I was a woman with a mission. I called my mother in Baja Sur, and made her look in the La Paz phone book for the DHL station where we send packages. It took her fifteen minutes but she found it, complaining that I should have the address memorized. My memory is good, but I only use this address about three times a year.
We chatted for a while. She wants to move back to the States. I want a bigger house. She may come work for my company, reversing our old position of me working for her (is this irony? I think it is). So we chatted, and if Fuzzy and I can find a house we like, they'll rent or buy this from us, and everyone will be happy.
Of course, after we were done talking, at nine my time, and I'd finished my mug of mint tea, I yawned, and stretched, and wandered back upstairs to figure out what to wear, and coax Fuzzy out of bed. Well, that was the plan. Instead he (with the help of the dogs) coaxed me back into bed, and we all slept till noon, when hunger finally drove us from our purple cotton sanctuary.
The rest of the day was spent idly. We went to lunch. We went to Fry's. We spent money. I am now the proud owner of a new scanner that not only scans normal stuff, but also transparencies, negatives, and slides. I'm very excited about that last part, because I have, in my possession, 50 years of slides that my grandfather took, and that none of us have seen since approximately 1976 when the last slide projector in the family finally burned itself out.
(I also have cans of 8mm home movies, that I really need to find a way to transfer onto video. Any thoughts?)
On the way out to lunch, I'd noticed that my parents house was up for sale again (they only sold it two years ago), listed for $794,950. In a fit of misplaced nostalgia, I entertained the thought of buying it, but, alas, it's out of my budget. Still, it's a neat house, built in 1908, and they were only the third owners. But that spurred us to drive figure-eights through the Rose Garden area, and collect “feature sheets,” those flyers in transparent boxes attached to properties up for sale. There are a couple of possibilities, and tomorrow we'll be wandering through Willow Glen doing much the same thing.
And we'll be out of bed before noon, too.