Monday Morning and a Dinosaur Weekend

Monday morning here.  As you can see, I am still not back on my previous schedule, posting early as I did when I lived in the Hudson Valley.  But at least I found my tripod.  Unfortunately I did  not manage to find it when I was wearing my fabulous new jeans, or my lovely new Lafayette 148 blouse, and I still have to figure out the light and/or buy a full-length mirror.  The mirror issue may be important.  

 

Anyway, there is not much new here:  BR corduroy pants, white JCrew perfect-fit tee, blue tunic/dress.  All posted before.  The shoes are relatively new, picked up one day when I was running errands and my shoes, which I had been wearing all fall, decided to stretch out so that I could not keep my heels in them as I walked.  Or perhaps my feet shrank, but I think that is unlikely.  Anyway, I was hobbling and shuffling, and I stopped in the only shoe store in Knoxville I have found to be even passably worthwhile and bought a pair of black clogs, these black clogs, and I've been wearing them ever since.  

 

But back to Monday.  For now at least, in this kind of mixed-up world of mine, I am happy for Mondays.  On Monday morning I become relatively off-duty for a whole day, after having only part-time caregivers on the weekend.  This was my own choice, having the weekend with G, and also the hope of occasionally spending some if with family, including that charming grandson.  But very often by Monday morning I am just tired, and more than content to sit in my office with a second cup of coffee letting my thoughts meander along. Monday morning is my time to think, to play, to read blogs, to take a breath before I resume unpacking.

 

And I am still unpacking:  the office is still a mess, and it can drive me to distraction. But I have cleared a small corner at least, and I can turn my chair away from my computer and look out the window, which has now been cleared, along with the cheerful corner bookcase, which I finally assembled, unpacked, and populated with cookbooks this weekend.

 

As you can see, the books did not all fit, and the collection was substantially pared down before the move (although I probably have an equal number on my Amazon wish list).  The overflow is stacked on the floor, where I am contemplating the possibility of a Sapien bookcase.  But there is time.  There are a good half-dozen books missing, not enough for a boxful, so I suspect they were slipped here and there into other boxes, hiding away in other rooms.  I will get to them, and assess the needs for overflow shelving once the unpacking is finished. The simple truth is that I will always have an overflow of books and piles are just a fact of life, so there is no particular rush.

 

It was not all work and unpacking this weekend, however.  Sunday we went off to an extravaganza of dinosaurs with step-daughter and grandson and had a wonderful, if exhausting, time.   There were all kinds of marvelous things, with models of dinosaurs both sweet and menacing, eerie lighting, and all kinds of marvelous buttons to push, buttons that could make dino swing his head, stare you in the eyes, move his hands or his tail, or even watch dino-ribs moving in and out rhythmically as he breathed.  Fascinating to a five-year old dinosaur fan.  Fascinating to grandmothers too.

 

I would have liked to take dino-photos, but my feeble iPhone attempts are basically laughable with all kinds of odd glowing colors.  Oh well.  I could have gotten the feel of the place had I taken the time with my bigger camera, but then of course I would have lost that grandma time.  So it is, and this is perhaps why I have never been a particularly good at the casual snapshot or the recording of family events, my personal sense that I can live the moment or photograph it, with the accompanying feeling that the photographs never quite make up for the memories lost.  

 

 

Comments

[Terri]

Aren't grandchildren wonderful at this age. Our 6 year old grandson has lived with us for the past 6 months...we worried before he moved here, but it has truly been rewarding to have him around.

[Gina]

Mardel, what is the name/brand of the bookshelf in the photo?
You are looking smashing!

[Duchesse]

Yes, remarkable that you can look like that in the midst of such work.

One of my clients is a major bookstore chain. One day a man came to one of the stores, asking for a book on dinosaurs for his son, "but NOT with drawings, with REAL photos". This story has entered into the folklore of the business.

[LPC]

This is a brilliant and beautiful post. Speak memory, huh?

[Mardel]

Thanks Terri,  Having our grandson so close, about 1 mile door to door, has been one of the best things about the move.  Even daily activities are a joy to share.

[Mardel]

Hi Gina!  The bookcase is the Parsons Tower from West Elm.  Their things assemble easily and are well put together and Ive been happy with the pieces I have gotten.

[Mardel]

Duchesse,  you know a great haircut has really helped.  And I am amazed at what a difference a fresh eye makes.  I loved my previous guy, Alfie, but I think we had both gotten to used to seeing me a certain way.  I had forgotten how much difference it makes just to feel good.

Really,  that book comment amazes me, but shouldnt really surprise me anymore.

[Mardel]

Thank you Lisa!

[Duchesse]

That is absolutely a great haircut (more visible in an earlier post. So true that they give us "the usual". Yet we are terrified to change and most of my friends and I only do it if forced, e.g. a move or the stylist retires. We should try new stylists more often.

[Susan Tiner]

Hi Mardel, you look wonderful. Those clogs are fabulous.

I know what you mean about having a great haircut. I've been struggling with my guy to see me differently. It's taken a number of iterations but he seems to be getting the hang of it. I hate the idea of changing because of the long-term relationship and also because he doesn't charge me a lot.

I wish I could come over and browse your book shelves :).

Your grandson must love it that you and G live near by and are up for adventures.