Crazy, crazy weekend. Saturday began boringly enough, and the next thing I knew, I had houseguests: my cousin Siobhan, driving in a Chevy Cavalier to Vegas with two friends, called up from D.C. needing a place to crash. We said yes, on they came, and fun was had all around. I’m still recovering, to be honest.
Siobhan is one of those people that I envy, because she’s a total fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants kind of girl. While I am entirely too attached to my Palm Pilot, very routine oriented, she literally just seems to go where the wind blows her. No money? No problem, she’ll get some somehow. No car? Oh, she’ll find somebody in the mood for a road trip. No place to stay? Oh, she’s got cousins everywhere! (As I do, of course, one of the many benefits of being from a large extended family.) As they left yesterday, en route to Alabama (and hopefully not right into Hurricane Ivan) she asked what I was doing for the rest of the day. I sighed sort of wistfully at her and said I had to grade papers, write recommendations, and do laundry. Ho-hum, right? I said, “Part of me just wants to jump in the car and drive off to Vegas with you.” And of course, in true Siobhan fashion, she said, “You should! Come on!” As if I could just up and leave here, mid-semester, with obligations all around me. Ah, maybe in another life. But not this one. But it’s fun to live vicariously, at any rate.
Meanwhile, because we did have people coming this weekend—as well as a dinner party—I finally had to do something with the big box of books I’d had in the foyer for weeks now that I’d been meaning to take to the library. Because it was (finally) not raining, I decided to go ahead and take it up to the top of our neighborhood and leave it under the community bulletin board with a sign that said FREE BOOKS! TAKE ONE! OR TWO? There were probably about forty books in it, all kinds: some I’d bought, many that had been sent to me by the paper. The next morning, I went up to check on it. All the Chick Lit was gone, as were several of the backpacking/hiking books that my husband had decided to get rid of. There were probably twenty books left. I just checked it again, on my way back from a walk, and it was down to about twelve. My husband said he saw a minivan parked there yesterday, someone bent over the box going through it, and it just makes me happy, for some reason, to give books a good home. Who says I don’t live an exciting life?
Okay, don’t answer that.
have a good day everyone!