quiet weekend

It's been a quiet weekend. Robert is about to undergo one of those icky tests that grownups have to go through. I feel a bit like Mrs. Portnoy (though I'm not banging on the door, and I know he hasn't been eating french fries with shiksas. Still.). We've been eating mostly white food of late, though today we went to a party where he ate almost nothing, and I got to indulge in all sorts of goodies (with a generous side-helping of guilt -- I feel a little bad eating yummy things while he can't). I think we've also been feeling a little stress about the test, though the doc is looking for something that's supposedly treatable, and of course, it might be nothing -- a mystery that disappears as fast as it came on.

Tomorrow is his birthday and also the test. By late afternoon, when the test is over, I hope we'll have some answers, and that he'll be feeling much better. We'll either have a nice dinner tomorrow evening, or a quiet evening with quiet food and a rain check. We'll play it by ear.

December is always busy, between shopping, charitable contributions early in the month, and Christmas cards later in the month. Today, I wrote my 84th Christmas card. I may write a few more before the season is out -- I always get a few delightfully unexpected cards, often late in the season. And I try to respond to those, too. It's the one time of year that I write letters to people, lots of them, so it takes me a while. My one concession in recent years has been to print address labels. It's not very elegant, but it allows me to concentrate on what we in the biz call "content."

The party today was supposed to be a reunion of my old workgroup -- the one that was split up in the fall of 2003. Some of my favorite people were there, but it was a small crowd, so I didn't get to do *all* the catching up I had hoped for. Still, it was a lot of fun to just relax with friendly folks, people with whom I'd been through so much.

One of the attendees brought her six-day old baby. Having dealt with the other end of life so much, it's always a pleasure to see someone at the very beginning of life, someone whose every gesture is adorable. This one is a real snuggle-bun -- she just wanted to curl up in mom or dad's arms. She also has a healthy set of lungs, but the parents are already tuned into what's ailing her, and were so incredibly attentive to her. Very sweet.

The cat has made out this weekend. She's had two days in front of the woodstove, and lots of time with her people. She's always loved to claim her spot on the hearth rug (which she'll occasionally deign to share with me if I decide to nap in front of the fire). But lately, she's taken to curling up on the brick just under the lip of the stove. She gets too hot and moves half-way across the living room, lying there limply until she gets cold again, at which point she moves back to the brick.

Time for bed; the workweek starts up again tomorrow, and it's my last week of work before the New Year. Oh -- one more thing. One of Robert's friends wrote a hilarious parody of the children's book "Everyone poops" (honestly, there is such a book). The parody (which you shouldn't show to children unless you've reviewed it carefully yourself) is Everybody pees. I wish I was half this creative.