TheCapeBlog

Tiny paw prints on the deck. Something has been visiting us at night, and obviously, the attack cat is not effective at keeping him or her away!

In a spontaneous burst of introspection the other day, Ron said he puts me at the “top of the heap” of his love connections because I “make more sense” than all of his priors.

That made me feel pretty good!

He also said that we have the same sense of humor, like the same things, and complement each other through our different world experiences.

I would say this man has his head in the right place, i.e., above his shoulders. Let’s hope it stays there!

I’ve been gnawing over how to arrange furniture so that Ron and I will have enough room to sleep comfortably when he comes for a visit next week.

It was fabulous to sleep on a king in Richmond, but I didn’t want to get rid of the double, which I’ve had for only four years.

I had the idea to buy a twin and put them together with a device called a “make a king”. It’s a heavy duty strap and a pad designed to work with two twins, but does fine with this configuration as well.

The result is a gigantic and very comfortable bed, 90 inches wide.

I picked up a nice cotton spread. Washable, which is fortunate: today, Fluffles, who loves it, threw up all over it. Poor little fellow has had a tough day with stomach problems.

It made Ron sad when I told him that I’ve never received flowers. So, he sent a check with a note “buy yourself some flowers.” I got a great deal on these gorgeous white and orange roses at Stop & Shop, and had more than enough left to get a roast beef dinner – enough for two meals – at Family Foods.

Really nice outside today, so fit some yard work in between laundry and doing taxes.

Turns out, we’ll have almost as big a refund coming to us as married filing jointly as Ron would have had filing single. The bigger deductions and lower tax rates made the difference. I’m relieved because at first look, I was worried that it would “cost” him over $800 to file as married.

We’re sending everything to his accountants just to be sure it’s done correctly.

A few spring flowers are coming up. I did some leaf cleanup already, so mostly pruned today.

Have been having a lot of trouble with the furnace. Had the ignitor replaced but it failed again last night. Hit the box on the upper left with the mallet a few minutes ago, and now it’s cranking. Obviously, the repair person missed whatever is really wrong with it.

Ron is happy with the progress he’s making on the hated storage units. Thank goodness.

I believe myself to be morally superior to pretty, sexually desirable women.

I could be greatly disappointed, depending on what happens in the next few days.

Yesterday was gorgeous, sunny and almost cloudless, the perfect opportunity to drive to South Hadley and check out the Mt. Holyoke yearbooks for 1968-1970.

Long story bearable, I found her: not Suzanne, but Susan, and no raving beauty either, but a mousy-looking girl who probably never had a lot of boyfriends.

Ron was attracted to her anyway. He’s told me that the time they spent together is in his mind and heart. He hopes the same is true for her.

I left a letter for her with the Alumnae Office.

I have to admit that I’m proud of Ron for providing this unlikely object of his affection with an introduction to physical love that was thoughtful and romantic.

I just wish it could have happened for us. Oh, well.

First yard work of the year today (hooray) and my upper arms feel like cement.

Cut down the remaining grasses and did a bunch of raking in the back, the sides and the front.

Still pretty wet, so when things dry out a bit, I’ll finish it off with the leaf vacuum.

Suzanne. Again. That name and that experience – “once in a lifetime” – is back.

I can’t get over how I feel. I don’t think I ever will and I don’t know what to do about it. I am in so much pain right now, feel trapped inside this wretched body, like being suffocated in a coffin.

More strange dreams. Ron wasn’t in this one. I was travelling with a group and for some reason, had three room keys, one of which was very rusted. I didn’t know which room was mine. I was young, college age, and sharing a room with two other girls.

When I caught up with the group, they said they lost track of me so they’d given my room to someone else “more worthy”. If I were going to stay, I’d have to share a room with a man I didn’t know.

That infuriated me. I beat the shit out of the group leader, kept slapping her as hard as I could over and over, but no one seemed to mind and she hardly even reacted.

Just before I woke up, I was frantically running around trying to find my things and checking flight schedules so that I could pack and catch a plane back home. I had another, less violent, dream after that.

A slapping dream means either a surprise is going to happen soon or the dreamer is repressing anger and hostility.

Had to restart the furnace, but it’s been cranking away, knock wood.

I’ve been getting my energy back after Berkeley and then Emme’s birthday trip to Nantucket. Figuring out logistics wore me out. It was the perfect day for the trip and we enjoyed it, so well worth the effort and I’m so glad we did it.

I made The Cake for her yesterday and did the transfer station run with Peter, which makes today seem like a holiday rather than Sunday. He’s going to SF for GDC today.

Yesterday was the annual 20% off at Ace, and I got some really neat stuff, including another hanger for yard tools, some gutter screens, a candy thermometer and a hummingbird feeder.