22:18 - 13.09.07
Short circuit
I wrote the following last night, dear diary, but when 2 in the am rolled around and the Diaryland site kept crashing when the save function was activated I gave up. I saved the entry to Word and went to bed. Looking after my grand-daughter is not for anyone who isn't totally alert. So here it is for what it's worth.
On Tuesday we had a temperature of 26 C/ 79 F under brilliant blues skies. Wednesday morning, as I was climbing on the bus, it was -2 C/ 28 F. It had been pouring down rain since dinner time the evening before and that was still going strong. Frost warnings had been issued for the areas outside the city. Not "The" killing frost mind you, but there was snow in the mountains 60 miles away. Everyone was moving as fast as they could from conveyance to conveyance or shelter. I wore my winter coat because it has such an effective weather-proof hood, but it was still soaked through even with maybe five minutes of exposure to the elements. When I pulled it on tonight it was still wet, as were my runners.
There was literally a waterfall pouring off the stairway from the bus loop to the train platform at the first transition point in my daily journey. It was so cold this morning that the windows in the trains and buses were covered in the condensed breath of my fellow travellers. Not much to see anyway, because it was so overcast. "Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat...." No geese wandering the riverbanks today, me bucko. Probably feasting on corn somewhere much warmer than here.
Not a lot to say for myself tonight. More work on the assignments that now are paying me for my services. Calls back and forth during the day from my youngest - he could print off the forms I need to be entered on the one payroll, but there were a few hitches first try. Re-submitted the one research project today hoping the several hours of research would be enough to allow for publication. At this point, the payment reflects an hourly wage of about a dollar an hour. Oh well, one has to learn the process thoroughly before one can see the work as a viable means of support I guess. I think I just really want to see some proof that I am moving forward is all.
My grand-daughter was really cranky and distant this morning. There was a bit of a rash around her mouth and her skin had a "burnt" aspect to it. Put some zinc cream on the "owies" and she perked right up. When I went to plug in the kettle for that first cup of tea after arriving out of that driving rain, the top fell off. I was beginning to wonder if being burnt - in several aspects - was going to be the theme of the day. I was so tired after the late night before, that I was worried I wouldn't cope well if things got too heated. As it was there were a lot of stories on the television about music and musical instruments, so as long as I kept singing and keeping time to the music, my grand-daughter was quite content. Lucky for me she isn't a music critic. Into everything now, she is. I told my son that I thought that maybe, as she was lying immobile when she was a tiny baby, that she planned her mode of attack for when she could walk. She is so clever that she has also planned diversionary tactics for any adults in the area that are nothing less than masterful. Her one miscalculation is that with six sons of my own to raise, I've seen just about every ruse a small child could come up with. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and taught the course, as they say.
Anyway I'm going to lie down immobile in what is called sleep now dear diary, but my only plan of attack is to stay unconscoius and dreaming for as long a I can. Good night.
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