Just busy, that’s all. Nothing special or exciting - just busy. We had a fundraising reception with a whole bunch of muckety-mucks at the Boston College Club, which is on the 36th (or 39th - I’m not sure) floor of the Bank of America corporate (Boston) headquarters overlooking Boston Harbor, and the view was simply magnificent - akin to what you see taking off in a plane. Lofty. Almost above the clouds, which is, of course, where a majority of these people feel that they belong by birthright - or by virtue of their inflated assets, at any rate. The food left a lot to be desired, however - with little trays of bite-sized bits of this n’ that offered up by waiters in white coats and black bow ties. The furnishings and accoutrements were, of course, of the finest, most expensive quality, the silver so thick and heavy that you could barely lift your fork with that little crumb of something or other on it. Have I mentioned how much I abhor these events? When I have to slip into the “little black dress” and absurdly high heels (not that high for you young ‘uns, I’m sure, but WAY high for an old over-the-hill thing like my own self)??? You’re supposed to look like you’ve got some class - supposed to look like one of them doncha know? Because they like to “do deals” and give to their friends - they don’t give a poop about anybody who might truly need the programs and services that their money helps to fund - oh, no; they’re there to see and be seen. They’re there to have their picture snapped with someone higher (never lower) on the income & influence ladder than they are. They write checks simply to outdo the nouveau riche guy at the next table - fine for us, but I mean, c’mon! How crass can you get? Must you get dressed up in black tie and stand around sipping wine and all that in order to share some of your money with the less fortunate? I say, just send us a check! Stay home, put your feet up, swig on a beer if you want and watch TV in your underwear. I don’t care WHAT they do - but wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier to just skip the freaking reception and send a check?????

Oh, blah. So, I didn’t get home until 10:30 or thereabouts on Wednesday night, and then had to drive (2 1/2 hours each way) to North Adams for a meeting up there yesterday. Can anybody say “exhausted”????? Needless to say, I had no problem whatsoever sleeping last night, and slept soundly until the alarm clock buzzed at 5:30 this morning.

I overindulged a bit this week - nothing outrageous, exactly, but I’ve been a tad on the hungry side for some reason. Dying for something sweet. Don’t have a clue why. Gotta get on the scale tomorrow, though. My new routine is to weigh in every Saturday.

More planting tomorrow, along with my usual grocery run. More walking, too, with DH. It looks, incidentally, like Washington is going to pass the unemployment extension along with the additional funding package for the Iraq war, so good news accompanied by bad, in my opinion. I think if we could close the war down by foregoing the unemployment extensions, DH and I would rather just tighten our belts and go without. Of course, his retirement income from Social Security will kick in when he turns 62 - he filled out the paperwork, and I think he said he’ll get his first check towards the end of October. We were expecting his unemployment to stop in mid-July, but have planned accordingly, so we could survive well enough with or without the extension. I realize, of course, that not everyone is in that position, and no doubt need the extension, so I shouldn’t speak for the general (unemployed) population. But I think it stinks that the only way they could pass it was to tack it onto a war spending bill. I don’t disapprove of veteran’s benefits at all, but I sure would like it if we had fewer veterans because there was no war to fight, you know?

I’m a little bit apprehensive about weighing myself this week. Oh, well - there’s always next week if I didn’t do so well this time around, right?

Have a happy, healthy and oh, so wonderful weekend, everyone! We DO deserve it, yes?

Hugs,

Z