Nothing like it...

There's nothing like a cold glass of milk when you're quenching your thirst, except that you then want a second and third one and I do have to draw the line somewhere, don't I? I'll run out of milk before it's shopping day if I don't. And it does make your body cold all over if you have more than one ice cold glass, which makes you want to put on your bathrobe for warmth. I just did that, because I couldn't resist temptation. The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak.

I was asleep already, but was awakened by my neighbors a few houses down who are having a cocktail party in their back garden. There's a cacophony of laughing and shouting voices, no doubt helped along by some alcohol. I'll have to close my window when I go to sleep next or they will have stopped their party by that time. Maybe all the people will be driven inside by the cold. It's only 11C outside, after all. They must all be out there with jackets on. Maybe these are all the guests that smoke cigarettes. If so, there are many of them.

The day went by fine. I walked Tyke three times and all three times he acted like a runaway elephant from the circus. He hopped, skipped and jumped all over the place, he was that happy to be outside. He was 18 months old yesterday and still acts and looks like a puppy. He is endearing when you see him and everybody wants to pet him, especially old ladies.

I read my novel, which I now realize is a "feel good" novel. I'll finish it nevertheless, because it is interesting enough and I'm far enough into it to stop reading it. I do want to know how it ends, but it's not the sort of novel I would normally read. It's a little bit too simple for that. I like one with more darker aspects to it. In this one someone is either a good guy or a bad guy, and the good guys are really good. Unconditionally so. It seems a movie has been made of this book, but I don't know how well it did in the theaters.

I watched a program about Alma Mahler, the wife of Gustav Mahler, who married two Jews in a time when it was not so popular to and she made her escape with her second husband to California and later to New York. When she went back after the war to reclaim her property in Austria, she was asked by the judge why she as a nice Christian woman had married two Jewish men, at which point she left Austria and never returned. She composed music of her own, but gave it all up when she married Mahler, who could not stand a wife who also composed. He thought she had to live in service of him. Her second husband was more broadminded and gave her all sorts of room to develop herself. His name was Franz Werzel who wrote the book The Song of Bernadette. It was a promise he made if they were to escape the Nazis.

This program was part of the cultural programming that's on television on Saturdays, which is very rewarding and deals with art and literature and architecture. I do get my fill on Saturdays and so appreciate that. Especially since I get to do so very few cultural things myself. I do hunger for these things and am very curious about them. I took two classes in art history in California and I'm fascinated by the subject, so anything like it is fine with me, but I also like modern art, although it doesn't always make sense to me and expressionism gives me a headache. And that's not even modern anymore. I like Karel Appel very much. His are very happy and lively paintings with lots of primary colors. They are like bursts of energy. If I could paint like that, I would be very happy.

For some reason, there are sports commentaries on talk radio on the weekends and I'm not too thrilled about that. I'd rather listen to something more interesting than a rehash on some football game that was played that afternoon. I suppose on the weekends sports are all that count, at least at the time that I go to bed and want to listen to the radio. I fall asleep anyway, because it's so darn boring, but I'd rather listen to a subject that I really care about and that is somewhat enriching to my intellect. Last night there was a piece on about a very good gymnast who had been caught using cocaine and I say, that's plain stupid, but why waste 30 minutes on it, as it happened some time ago. I'm sure we're not all going to run out and use cocaine now unless we're warned off by the example. Sometimes the public is thought to be simple.

Sundays are a day of rest, but I'm going to change my bed and do a load of laundry. I'm also washing the fleece blankets that I have on the sofa and armchair. The yellow and red one. I also have to remember to water the plants again. The spider plant is taking quite a beating from the animals. They both want to chew on it. For some reason it is a very fascinating plant to them with its spiky leaves. They chew all the babies off. I'll have to get another less attractive plant to put on the dining table and move this one to a less vulnerable spot, wherever that is. Somewhere safe from Gandhi, on the bookcase probably. She can't get in there and it will be safe from Tyke too. It will give the spider plant a proper chance to grow like it should and become abundant.

I had to stop using my light therapy lamp, as it was making me hypomanic, or had I already mentioned that? It seems that when you use it when you're not depressed, this happens. I went up and up and up and then came down with a crash and then returned to normal, but I haven't used the lamp since. I didn't realize that could happen and used it as a preventive measure, which turned out to be not a good idea. You only should use it when you're really depressed and not when you think you may become so down the line. I suppose I'm still getting enough hours of daylight for this not to be the case. It's not nice to fool mother nature. Another lesson learned.

I need to make an appointment to get my hair cut as it is now becoming unmanageable. It's too long to brush it into the proper shape and I look funny. I also ran out of hairspray and now I can't do a thing with it because it is fly away hair. If I sleep on it wrong it sticks out in a funky direction. I thought about letting it grow, but I don't like that awkward in between stage and I would rather have it cut short again. Besides, I need the pampering that a visit to the hair salon brings with it. I'm looking forward to it. I deserve it. I am woman hear me roar...

I've been wearing my multi colored floral dress, but I think I will change into my burgundy colored India cotton dress with pockets today. I have a nice silky scarf that goes with it. I can make myself happy in anticipation about which clothes I'm going to wear. It is a treat to myself, even if I don't share it with anybody else. I do it for my own satisfaction and to look good when I walk Tyke. I am a city woman, after all. I can't walk around in grungy clothes. I dress up always, even for unimportant things. Besides, I don't have grungy clothes. I don't have old clothes to wear for dirty jobs either. I just don't do dirty jobs.

It's in the very wee hours of the morning now, optimistically speaking. There's some time to go until dawn. I think the neighbors' party is over, it's quiet out there now and I did hear a bunch of people leave some time ago. Tyke's sound asleep in the armchair and Gandhi is asleep on the sofa. I've got to clean the kitchen up a little bit and I'll do that before I go to bed again. I'm not sleepy, but for the heck of it I'll go back to bed. A person does have to be sensible and I did just now yawn.

I hope you all have a nice day.

Ciao,
Nora