Another one of those
slow, sleepy, narcoleptic weekends in progress ... the kind of weekend
where all I want to do is unplug the phone/disconnect the computer,
throw the Billy Bragg & Wilco CD onto the stereo and curl
up on the sofa with the Help Wanteds, a jar of Sorrells Pickard Gourmet
Peanut Butter and a spoon, while I watch the rain falling outside the
Preferably with my eyes closed.
(The kind of weekend that always prompts the blizzard of "Are you still breathing or whut?" e-mail. I'm fine. Thank you. And I'm sorry you haven't heard from me. I've completely stopped aspiring to ever getting *caught up* on anything, ever: I'm still writing my Christmas thank-you notes, basically.)
David and I got up this morning at 7:30. I drank two cups of coffee, ate a lemon muffin, took a long hot shower ... sat down on the edge of the bed to dry my hair ... and wound up crawling back under the covers and sleeping for another two and a half hours.
What can I tell you? Fighting my way back to health after this latest bout of germ warfare is proving to be a challenge, to put it mildly. I'm not going to bore you with the details. Sure I am! Suffice it to say that besides the total absence of anything even remotely resembling an *energy molecule,* anywhere in my entire body ... besides the maddening, itchy cough that has driven me to sleep on The Ouch for the past four nights in a row ... I am also *enjoying* [not] the usual after-effects of ten days' worth of antibiotics.
(Read this: I'm not gonna be wearing tight pants today. OK?)
The one true bright spot in this particular weekend was the arrival of Feef's annual "Kentucky Derby" package. It was sitting on the Castle doorstep when David and I got home from work on Friday night. This is the fourth year in a row that my wonderfully silly pal from Loo-uh-ville has sent the KD goody box: it's become as much a springtime *tradition* as fresh strawberries at the fruit stand ... poppies blooming on the Oakland hillsides ... the Today Show's dorky "Where in the World Is Matt Lauer?" week. Over the years, the contents of the package have differed slightly. (She doesn't send me the little bottles of bourbon and Mint Julep mix anymore, for obvious reasons.) One year there was a pencil with a little horse head glued to the top; year before last, there was a 3D Kentucky Derby magnet, which is currently being used to hold the Alameda Pizza menu on the fridge. This year my extra surprise was a giant Gummy Foot, in honor of *FootNotes.* But the two items in the package that have remained constant, from year to year, is the commemorative glass -- this year it says "126th Kentucky Derby 2000" -- and the little "Pegasus" commemorative pin.
The Pegasus pin -- see poorly-scanned/ridiculously-huge/I don't care photo *montage* above -- arrives every year in a little promotional envelope, promising "15,000 Instant Prizes!" if you happen to open the envelope and get a gold pin. Every year I hold my breath when I tear open the little envelope, hoping that maybe THIS is the year I'll win the free dessert at Cleo's Coffee & More.
(Damn! Another free 20 oz. bottle of Mello Yello. Oh well. Maybe next year.)
Anyway ... thank you, Feef, if you're reading this. I love it. And I love YOU!
Even if I haven't gotten around to answering that Christmas e-mail yet.