When Mr. K and I first moved in together (into a bizarre apartment in a chopped up old house just east of campus with the only bathroom in the [completely window-surrounded] sunroom) I listened to Bonnie Raitt's Nick of Time all the (if you ask Mr. K) damn time. That album seemed to sum up all of the joys, mixed emotions, and minor dramas of those early days of couplehood perfectly. Truth is, however, I did finally get sick of it (the album, not couplehood) so it was a real treat to find a different enough version that it felt new again.
via garmenthouse
This weekend? Music, music, music, R's first major league baseball game (watching, not playing... I know you weren't sure), buying my winter's supply of roasted chiles (and cleaning and freezing them), starting to tuck the garden in for winter, preparing the turtle for hibernation, mowing (gah, the grass is loooong), and hopefully, getting some cooking done ahead of time for the coming week.
Swim team is back in full gear and all 3 kids are swimming this year and although there's some overlap in the schedules for their practice groups, it still means I'm at the pool 5 nights a week. Benefits? Moisture for my dry skin and a little mini tropical vacation every night of winter. Drawbacks? I'm at the pool every night of the week. At least it'll keep me from watching reality TV (as much). But, when they're all done swimming, I'd better have a big ol' dinner waiting at home or I'm likely to lose a limb to the voracious little piranhas!
It may not be the life I was picturing when I was cranking up the Bonnie Raitt in that first apartment but let's face it, had I stuck with those plans, I'd be one insufferable bourgeois bore. I'm good and comfortable with 'just plan bore' thankyouverymuch.
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