HOME ALONE

My Sweet Babboo, BC, flew the coop last Sunday to go fishing in the wilds of Canada.  To be specific, on God's Lake which is somewhere in Manitoba.  It's one of those trips that requires new, different, better and heavier equipment--much heavier.  That is always music to the ears of a fisherman.  He and his friends will be fly-fishing for Northern Pike, Walleye, Lake Trout and, perhaps Brook Trout.  I'm hopeful that nothing as yet has pulled BC out of the boat and played him to the point of exhaustion.  Did I mention these fish will be large?  I wonder if they will require a wide-angle lens for the photos I hope to see?  I'll definitely pass them on if that is the case.

In the meantime, I am home alone.  Don't feel badly.  I often look forward to being home alone.  My relationship with BC is excellent, but one of my biggest luxuries is the peace and quiet to do what I want or need to do, when I want or need to do it, in the manner in which I want or need to do it, taking just as long or short a time as seems right.  That is my idea of heaven.  One of them anyway.  I lived alone for a number of years during my adult life.  It can spoil a person.

My intentions this week have been to clean the house from top to bottom, clearing out any extraneous items and delivering them to Goodwill; Meditating and exercising daily; Eating right and losing five pounds; and finally, searching for the perfect Rose wine from the Provence region of France that the Wall Street Journal so temptingly wrote about last week.

My actions this week have been to finish watching Season Six of Mad Men and move into Season Seven.  Season Seven is very dark and a little depressing and, at the moment, it looks like everything is going to hell in a handbasket.  It's a bit of a chore to watch but I can't help myself.

On the bright side, I have cleaned out our pantry and refrigerator.  I have to do that when BC is out of town because he has never met a food that has gone so bad or is so outdated he can't eat it to avoid wasting it.  I worry about him, but it's easier to let him stuff it down his throat  than for me to justify stuffing it down the disposal.  If he ever keels over, just know it wasn't my fault.

I've also cleaned my half of the Master Closet and it does look much nicer.  I love the ring to "Master Closet".  I've never had one before.  Sadly, however, what looked so wonderful empty as we wandered through the spec home, doesn't look nearly as promising when it's full of clothes.  Actually, the little twenty-somethings who House Hunt on HGTV would walk away in total disgust if they saw it.  I think they'd go for the kitchen, but they'd be merciless over that closet.    

Back to the dark side--I somehow managed to completely erase (and yes, they're erased) 193 professional photos taken in Mexico of our family.  I was trying to download them to Adobe Elements to use them in last Friday's post, but instead I wiped them out faster than I could blink, think or scream.  I didn't know my computer had that kind of speed.  Fortunately, each sub-family in our group also has a disc so they're coming to my rescue.

I thought I'd get way ahead on posting for the Generalist, but that hasn't happened and I can't explain why.  Wouldn't it be something if BC really is my muse and I need him here to do my little bit of creativeness?  That would be totally unexpected but pretty awesome.

And, finally, I've begun the August selection for Book Club--The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt.  It won a Pulitzer Prize which means that I will probably like it.  I can be so unsure of things, I really appreciate affirmation.  What better than a Pulitzer?   It's forever long--12,553 locations per my Kindle.  That will be a definite push for me to read  in a month.  So, if you don't hear from me, my head will be buried in that sweet little reading device of mine.

Take care and stay out of the sun.  I'm still peeling from Mexico and my dermatologist is going to have a fit.

Margie