It is no secret that 100 Years of Solitude is one of my favorite books. I’ve been struggling through Love in the Time of Cholera for years. It has a lot of the great writing and humor that Gabriel Garcia Marquez is known for, but it is no where near the book that 100 Years of Solitude is.
I made it home. I wanted to bring the 1 1/2 year old baby home for Christmas, but it is not mine despite it’s convincing coloring. Snowstorming this morning. One ewe slipped on the ice and came down on her pregnant belly. Wolves chased the cows onto the highway. This far into gestation, we hate to see them ran. Good to be home. So good.
Tomorrow I plan to start my trek back to Oregon. It’s snowing in Salt Lake City tonight, but hopefully it will clear by tomorrow morning. Oregon has a chance of snow every day for about a week, so there isn’t going to be a great day to travel. I’ve been running errands and trying to get a bulk of the early grad school applications out before I leave. It’s going to be hard to leave Boyfriend this time. I missed him during Thanksgiving and that was only 4 days. That said, it will be good for these two commitment phobic people to have some space. He is supposed to keep my 12 precious house plants alive. When I left for France, he offered to care for them and said in all seriousness that he would just put them in the backyard where the sprinkler system would take care of them. I love him. He has helped make my existence significantly more pleasant this past year. Still, I’d like something more serious. I’d like to have dinner with someone on a regular basis. My friends keep mentioning how they need to go put the stew/lasagna/casserole into the oven. Everyone is having dinner with friends. Most nights I’m eating a cold can of beans over the sink, and I mean that metaphorically. I mean, which would you choose?
Lesson learned: I cannot eat lunch and read about alopecia on wikipedia.
I may be stroking today–a hypoglycemic attack this morning: faint, shaky, clammy cold, followed by numb arm, fever, hot and cold shivers, etc. If I die, I want syllepsis to know that I love her.