weekend

Finally, spring break is over, and it is back to business as usual tomorrow. It's been an interesting weekend…. I don't know why I can't do things in moderation. Started with Thursday night, when my spouse was advised of a long deserved promotion, and in celebration we consumed the better portion of two bottles of wine. That wouldn't have been so bad if I hadn't had a beer with my writing pals before going home… and he hadn't had scotch waiting for me. Oops. At least we weren't driving. Two glasses is my limit, and I've been trying to make up for the dehydration since then.

Friday night I sold food tickets at the intermediate school dance. Nothing makes you feel older though than having little girls hit on your child in your presence. I know my boys are hot, but this one is TWELVE. Have to admit the young lady who asked for his number (really, at 12!!) was gorgeous. Kids seem to bypass that ugly duckling stage now. I shudder to think of how I looked at 12, that was go-go boot year. Enough of that memory. Suppression is a wonderful thing.

Saturday… Opening day for Little League. In this phase of the weekend, we had the over achiever mothers, of which I am not a member, decorating a float for the parade and competing for the honor of being chosen the "best" float. There have been times that I wished I could fit in with the Barbie doll mom's whose lives depend on such things, but only when I'm going through some sort of insanity.

Then the art fair. From 1 to a little after five I stood in a wooden booth and sold tickets for $8 a person. The other person at my station was a twenty something very cute blond from Estonia…. Tough to keep up with.

I love to watch people at play… but the most interesting thing was watching the artists. Thousands of people walking by their work… the things they created from their imagination and their hands… and they seemed to be separated from the whole thing. Near the end of the fair, I stopped to by some tiny silver bells on chains. I wasn't looking for a bargain; I just thought they were unique and pretty. The artist kept telling me which ones had the best sound. I'm not sure if anyone who wore one around her neck would be concerned with the pitch of the bell. Perhaps that was his way of showing his nervousness. I bought two… just regular little bells. Pretty pendants. I was drawn to the lighthouse bell, but that is a little bit much, don't you think?

And now, now I am tired, but I am afraid of letting this journal go for too many days without writing. I have already lost the rhythm of my memory writing, and much like my own personality in the past two weeks, I feel like I am losing complete touch.

I hate how fast time is going.