Blogging from Montreal

I moved out of my parents’ house a very long time ago.

That aside I still come back fairly often to visit and more often than not, I inhabit my old room. It still has the grass wall paper, the posters of Amsterdam and of London , but none of my old furniture except my battered and hideously green bedside (and understandably left behind) table.

My father’s Jewish genealogical books, resource materials, and magazines have spilled over from his chaotic “office” next door - my younger sister’s old room - into this familiar and yet not familiar space and while I have absolutely NO claim on or say in what my esteemed parent does with the spaces in his home, I draw the line at large piles of holocaust survivor testimonies on my old bedside table.  I respectfully relocated this pile of invaluable but not soothing reading materials and then got out the stuff I like to have beside my sleeping place: glass of water, lip balm, my mouth guard to keep me from cracking my teeth while I sleep, and a good book.

Then I noticed the new computer in the corner.  When I lived here - from 1981 until 1992- I never had a computer in my room. Having this one here tempting me is not doing any good thing to my sleep habits. 

It’s been a LONG day; I taught one class this morning, listening to and feedbacking on 6 speeches (two students successfully applied for zeros on 15 percent of their grades by not showing up), then I came home to pack up the car only to be faced with a dog who had a pronounced disinclination to being locked up in her crate. In fact as soon as she heard my keys, she scampered off into the farthest reaches of my 6 acre property - across a small stream - to get away and I spent nearly 40 minutes trying to get her back in the damn house.  Normally a fairly obedient dog, she must have known I was keen to leave, AND it was 81 degrees and as a desert dog, she delighted in the heat and the opportunity to play. And I suspect to frustrate me. Eventually I twigged to bringing out her dog dish with food in it and banging on it, which happily resulted in the contrary creature bouding out of the forest of budding trees to my feet.  I will admit to some extreme satisfaction when after allowing her a snack, I clanged her crate shut.  Sometimes I am just petty. 

The girls and I headed north minutes later and had a gorgeous drive (averaging 43 mpg) over the mountains of Vermont.

It’s bedtime round these parts.  Good morning, Thursday!