bunt sign

Sunday, February 23, 2003

I'm not sure what it would take for me to sit back at the end of the weekend and tell myself I'd had a perfect Sunday. Perfect Saturdays are easy, because Saturday is the best day of almost any week. A perfect Sunday? I should probably feel as if I'd accomplished something, and I should probably feel rested up for the week ahead. Maybe those two ideals are mutually exclusive. One or the other might be a more realistic goal.

Let's face it. Even if I'd had a car, I wouldn't have gone anywhere today. I've been on the go all week, despite not having wheels of my own, and I needed a day. It could have been a day to decompress, or a day to get caught up. I'm not sure which I needed more, but I didn't quite accomplish either. Not exactly a perfect Sunday by my own definition. Still, I'm now ready to face another week, as long as it's not another week without a car.

Because of what happened last night, there was no chance I'd get up early enough to do everything I'd hoped to do today. After working in the yard yesterday, I was pleased that my allergies didn't seem to have been bothered. Then I started sneezing. Then I started coughing. Then I started gasping for breath, and that went on almost all night.

I settled on the couch with the TiVo remote in one hand and tissues and lozenges within reach of the other. As I flipped through my movie channels, I caught a little Bill Cosby on Black Starz and a little David Strathairn on Encore. That's what I remember; there might have been more. I don't think I ever made it to the bottom of the programming lineup, the Sundance Channel and the Independent Film Channel. The movies they show there would have kept me awake even longer anyway.

So it was getting uncomfortably close to dawn before I finally crawled off to bed, and it was embarrassingly close to noon by the time I crawled out of it this morning. That doesn't leave a lot of productive hours, especially on a winter day that starts out dark and keeps getting darker. I managed to get three loads of laundry done, along with two sessions in the yard pulling weeds.

The yard waste container that was half full when I finished working outside yesterday was about one-third full when I started today. The contents had settled during the night, as if to mock my meager gardening accomplishment. So I filled it back to halfway again. I'll pay the price tonight if the allergies go to work on me again, but the back seems to be holding up pretty well.

It'll be almost a relief to get back into the workweek schedule. I'll have an agenda that I have to stick to, and once I get my car back things will start to approach what passes for normal around here. Plus, it's likely to be raining for a couple of days, which should clear the air and keep me out of the weeds and high grass. I think that's probably best for now. And we can always try again for a perfect Sunday some other week.

looking west

Blue sky trying to break through the cloud cover.

Did you ever have an earthworm crawl up inside your gardening glove? It feels pretty creepy (not to mention crawly). I'm not afraid of worms, or any other garden creature that doesn't bite or sting. But I can still have a shiver of revulsion when I feel something cold squirming against my skin. Blech.

previousbunt signemailnext


I had no compelling reason to watch the Grammys live, since the show wasn't broadcast live here on the west coast anyway. So good. I could record it on TiVo and fast-forward through the parts that didn't interest me. That cut the three and a half hour broadcast time almost in half.

It's hard to believe there are people who don't care about music, but such people actually exist. It's not hard to believe there are people who love music but don't care about the Grammys. The awards themselves become irrelevant when most of them are given out before the telecast starts. You don't watch the show to see who wins. You'd do better just to check the list.

What a show, though, from the opening number by Simon and Garfunkel to James Taylor singing "Sweet Baby James" to Bruce and the band reminding us what rock music is supposed to sound like to the all star version of the Clash's "London Calling." And Norah! How can you take your eyes (and ears) off Norah Jones?

Recent recommendations can always be found on the links page.

One year ago: Two For the Show
"You'd think with 50 satellite sports channels, one of them would be the Curling Network."

Subscribe to the notify list to be advised when this site is updated.

Once there were parking lots,
Now it's a peaceful oasis.
(you got it, you got it)
This was a Pizza Hut,
Now it's all covered with daisies.
(you got it, you got it)