Category: This & That

I had the strangest fever all weekend. Now I know why I went to bed at 8:30 p.m. Thursday night.

I woke up Friday feeling fine. So I thought. The dog had to go in to the vet’s for the day, so we didn’t have time for a walk (she wasn’t allowed to eat anything, and she always grabs something off the ground on our walks). Then I had errands to run downtown. Returned home, picked up the dog after some writing, and realized I was feeling a tad warm. I didn’t think anything of it. Nope, I didn’t walk the dog in the afternoon because she had to recover from her teeth-cleaning, not because there was anything wrong with me, you understand. Then the afternoon wore on, and I realized I only had enough energy to lie in front of the TV and vegetate—something I only do during the day when I’m sick. But I wasn’t sick! I was just too lazy to walk the dog (another very rare occurrence that should have clued me in).

Friday night, my Liege and I went out to an impromptu dinner. By this point, I was very emotional (watching Sicko before meeting him made me cry), and I went to bed early again.

Saturday morning, I awoke bright and early. My Liege offered to walk the dog alone, something that rarely happens. I hopped onto the computer, eager to get a ton of business-of-writing stuff accomplished. Then it hit me. I was either having the world’s biggest hot flash or I had a fever. I spent most of the day sleeping. When a friend mentioned that hot flashes usually don’t last 12+ hours, I finally admitted I might be sick.

I spent all of Saturday and Sunday in my pajamas. Sunday was a little better. No long naps (I only sleep during the day if I’m utterly exhausted or ill), but I couldn’t walk the dog again in the morning and I spent all day lying in front of the TV. Between Saturday and Sunday, I managed to scratch two items off my massive biz-of-writing To-Do list. And I considered that an accomplishment.

This was a very weird illness, because my only symptom seemed to be the fever. And tiredness. And thirst. I drank tons of water, rested for eons, and, okay, did the laundry, managed one afternoon walk with the dog, and pretended I was going to make dinner. Instead, I ate cashews and chocolate ice cream and caught up on my movie watching.

Goya’s Ghosts: Excellent. Watch it. Natalie Portman did an excellent job. As did Javier Bardem and Stellan Skarsgard (I’m starting to wonder if there’s any role Bardem doesn’t do well). Barely recognized Randy Quaid!

Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day: I endured about 20 minutes before deleting it from the digital recorder. I enjoy Frances McDermond and Amy Adams, but after Goya’s Ghosts I just…didn’t care.

Last Chance Harvey: Enjoyable enough for a Sunday afternoon. If you like Dustin Hoffman, you’ll like this movie.

Ghosts of Girlfriends Past: My Liege rented this for me Saturday evening. I enjoyed it, but Matthew McConaughey is starting to wear on me. I know, sacrilege! It seems that all the characters he plays lately are the same—charming slimeballs. I’ve met a charming slimeball or two in my lifetime, and I’m really not a fan of the type. I’d really like to see McConaughey play some meatier roles. On the other hand, I thought Michael Douglas was a hoot as McConaughey’s uncle.

Oh, and Sicko: Enjoyed it, even though it made me cry. This movie about the American medical system made me VERY glad I live in Canada, although now I’m seriously considering moving to France.

My Liege gets a new printer today. His died September 29th, the last day of Mercury Retrograde.

On the plus side, at least it wasn’t my printer. Mine is more expensive and gets a waaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy tougher work-out than his. My printer escaped Mercury Retrograde! HAHAHAHA! <insert maniacal laughter>.

However, alas, I’m the printer installer in this household. Cross your fingers that all goes well.

It’s Wednesday already? What happened?

I’m having one of those weeks where I have so much to accomplish that it feels nothing’s getting done when in fact I’m motoring along just fine. Still in the most intensive part of my single title revisions—the first three chapters. I love the revisions, but they really affect the structure of the partial. A lot of work to do.

I’m also very busy planning a major vacation for My Liege and I. I hope to book the plane tickets tomorrow. Meanwhile, his printer went on the fritz last night, one final kick at Mercury Retrograde, I suppose. Tried everything I could think of, but couldn’t get it to work again. Tonight I’m uninstalling and then reinstalling it. If that doesn’t work, he gets a new printer.

How’s your week shaking out?

“Truth is stranger than fiction.”

I don’t know who said that, but is it ever true! Sometimes the lives of my extended family and friends seem like something out of fiction. How about you?

On Sunday, My Liege, Eldest Son and I left Youngest Son alone for a few days while we transported E.S. to university. Y.S. had just bought a kayak, and I knew he planned to go out on the lake while we were gone. Thank God my BFF had lent him a good life jacket for the month of September….

M.L., E.S. and I hadn’t driven further than the next town when a storm blew up…just when Y.S. was supposed to be on the lake. We stopped to have lunch with a friend, and I called home to tell Y.S. to phone me to let me know he was still alive.

He was still alive. But what a hair-raising tale! He doesn’t have a skirt for the kayak yet, and the waves got choppy so the kayak began to take on water. He made it to the beach and realized he should head back home. On the way home, he capsized, losing his cell phone and his I-Pod (don’t ask me why he took either out on the lake). His shed half his clothes to make swimming easier, and by the grace of A Higher Being, he managed to rescue his kayak and himself.

It took him three tries to find a family that would help him. The first two wouldn’t give him the time of day. Okay, he was down to his skivvies, but all he wanted was a towel. He’s obviously still a teenager, wears a gold cross around his neck, the lake was very choppy by this point, and the kayak was sitting on the shore. Nope, no one had a towel to lend him.

Finally, the third family, who barely spoke a word of English, took him in. They let him have a short shower, lent him a change of clothes, gave him a cup of coffee and a snack, and let him use their phone to call the father of a friend to drive him home.

Do you believe me? Or is this a tall tale? 

Meanwhile, My Liege, Eldest Son and I made it to E.S.’s university town without incident. E.S. has been struggling for a few weeks now to receive back his deposit on the room he intended to rent in a private home. Supposedly that room had suffered damage in a fire. Among other things he was told that the landlady had (a) lost her cell phone (b) had suffered a minor nervous breakdown and was under a doctor’s care (c) wasn’t answering her home phone and might not even be there. Some of these stories came by way of an email from her, others from her supposed “very good friend,” who we now suspect was also her. Promises about the money coming “in 24 hours.” Promises that were never kept.

So. We go to her house. She’s not home. We talk to the downstairs tenant. The fire wasn’t confirmed or disapproved, but neither M.L. nor E.S. could see evidence of it. We left and moved E.S. into his new digs. Before going out to dinner, we returned to Evil Landlady’s house. I stayed in the truck (I tend to have too much compassion for people, even when they’re behaving in a despicable manner). M.L. and E.S. surprised Evil Landlady on her sundeck. She maintained she didn’t have the money and said she’d sent E.S. an email that day. Later, reading the email, E.S. reported that she’d claimed she’d moved to another city—a ferry ride and a drive away!

My son and husband said they would not leave until my son received back his deposit. What do you think—did he receive it back?

What’s his next step? Is she dumb enough to believe he won’t take it?