A January Sunday

I have messed around for over half an hour, something that is certainly standard procedure for me.  I decided, despite the early hour, to play around with some technology items, wondering whether or not I could work out the kinks of working on the blog from the iPad.  I managed to upload the picture, but for some reason when I published, there were two entries.  Then I started messing around with the accents on the laptop since I discovered the other day that the one accent in French that I thought I didn’t have with my accent system does work on the iPad.  It looks like it is not available on the PC.  So much for that. It is not a big issue.

I got up before seven after a strange night of sleeping, wondering whether it is because Mikey isn’t in the house.  We had a great day yesterday, chilling out and doing other things.  He and his brother did a bunch of things together and enjoyed Samantha. Samantha was not feeling well, but did well in spite of it, reeling from a runny nose and cold. We all dined together and then Mikey went home with Christian to have a sleepover.  That sounds damn funny!  I had fallen asleep, an apparently deep sleep, in the leather armchair before going to bed and I think that kept me from falling asleep even though I was tired.  It felt as if someone had taken a remote and turned on some odd portion of my brain and it came on with a vengeance and refused to accept my command to settle down.  I was trying to sleep on my left side and I just kept feeling my heartbeat which seemed to be at a rapid pace.  Rather than hit the chamomile tea, I decided to see if I could work it out, trying to relax, finally falling asleep, I think, on my back, which is rather unusual for me.

Looked out my window at the backyard and took the picture as I made coffee and did a few morning routine things.  The crisp January morning is exquisite and makes me wonder what the day holds.

Didn’t send Ali out for the paper, she is smart enough to know and expect that this day, Sunday, is her day off.  The Sunday paper is usually too large for her to handle and bring in so we don’t even try.

Yesterday brought a few interesting developments as I survived tutoring four high school students preparing for final exams in French.  It was oh so interesting as I used the iPad and a blue tooth keyboard to write notes as we worked together discussing various grammatical issues that were bothering them.  They were able to easily see what I was typing (with accents, yes!) as I worked on the keyboard, flitting from the American keyboard to the Canadian/French Multilingual.  When I got home I was able to send them the notes to their e-mail accounts for their review, I like being able to do that.  I reflected to my tutoring way back when I first started teaching, how I used to have my notepad in hand and write out my notes in cursive.  Now many students cannot even write in cursive!

I also went on Facebook and found that a French acquaintance I haven’t heard from in almost forty years is online, I connected with her and we started writing each other.  Her unusual last name stuck in my head and I found her almost immediately.  More often than not I don’t even try to look up such people since those in my age group are less likely to be on Facebook.  I am excited to see what she has been up to since I last saw her in 1972!

I am sitting with my coffee, laptop on my lap, and technology sprawling in my vicinity, trying to get my day in order. It appears we are having a Ribfest today with the family, celebrating a January birthday and working on getting back to normalcy.  One day at a time keeps coming to the forefront of my brain.  Our efforts at getting to normalcy with the prodigal son from the west coast are going oh so well.  We had what I would call one mini crash of spirits; frankly I think that that in and of itself is amazing.  Even without the addition of the drugs, a mini crash is an expectation when you have a radical change in life plans and a major move from a life of several years in another location.  His spirits are great, his goals are nicely, but not too rigidly planned out, and his family is supportive.  More importantly, he recognizes his need to be in the family nest.  The family is so happy to have him back. 

It is quiet.  The clock is ticking.  The chimes are still working after my playing with “Grandfather” and getting him back in order.  The gas forced air is working and hissing in the background.  The dog is curled up at my feet.  The disorder immediately in my vicinity can easily be cleaned up. My mind is all over the place. What does the future hold?

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