Rainy Tuesday with afternoon update

Felt sorry for the pugs when I took them out. Not only is it pitch black, but driving cold rain. Poor puppies.

I felt a little better last evening, but this morning I feel like absolute crap. Stuff has moved out of my head but my throat is still sore and the congestion has moved to my chest--always such fun when you're an asthmatic. Whine--it's what's for breakfast.

Well, that was just before 7 this morning. It's almost 1:30 now. I am snug in my office at work, was able to sit with the campus crafters (who meet at noon every day) and work some on a prezzie, and now I'm trying to be productive.

Still feel like crap, but at least I feel like productive crap.

I'm experiencing a new flavor of grief today. Not better, not worse, just different. Probably something to let sit for a bit before I try to talk about it.

Driving home at 25 mph and other tales

So, snow. Nasty, icy, wet, dangerous, snow. 24 miles of it. Up and down hills and around curves. Oh yeah--are we having fun yet?

But, I made it home, Jiro got his first experience of snow beneath his paws, and now he and his brother are arguing over a nylabone. Just another Tuesday in paradise.

On a not so happy note, a shire member needs prayers, as does her husband. Yes, Coppertree does not seem to be the place to be right now. Except maybe it is. The people in this shire are amazingly supportive of one another, and at times like this that can make all the difference. Perhaps they are exactly where they need to be.

Apparently she had a dream last night that Morguhn gave her a stern talking to about how she was to handle this mortal challenge. Her husband takes comfort that she has such a remarkable Guardian Angel. So be it.

and to all a good night

Quiet night, mostly. Duchezz called twice, worried about me because of the weather--did I get home okay? Would I be able to get out in the morning? How much snow did we get?

I did my best to reassure her, with only limited success. She feels, I think, that she must worry for me as he did, take care of the things for me that he did. This added to the part of those that she had always taken for her own. Her shoulders are not that broad, and I hope she learns that before she breaks under the yoke of too much obligation.

And, of course, home alone I did the usual stupids. Really creamed my head on the edge of a table, so focused on drying off the shivering pug that I forgot how much a squall hood limits vision. Lump on forehead that will hurt even more tomorrow. Le sigh.

Got much grading done. Good. Ate some food. Good. Finished his rainbow sherbert (for which my throat was grateful, but it burned my spirit).

And a Legend called tonight. To offer condolence. To reassure that he'd known, but wanted to give us time before he intruded on our grief. To say how he grieved himself because "he and I were so damn much alike." And they were. It was good, and hard, to hear that voice from so far away, wistful for man he'd seen too little, but connected with so deeply. And so I told him, as I have so many others, of the brightness of the day, and the brightness of his heart, in those minutes just before the world ended. It made him smile, I think, for there was a lightness in his voice after. That, of course, was the goal.

The blessing is it is also the truth.

To bed now, after heating up puppy pads, and feeding kitties. Tomorrow will come. I wish I could just sleep through it. Sleep until bright smiles come to my door on Friday. But, I suppose, the puppies and kitties would resent that a bit. Bless them.