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Wrapped in a heavy quilt, he sat shivering in front of me despite his hot fever and the warm night. He could barely walk and was so dizzy. His throat was swollen and sore from coughing, and had virtually no voice.

That was last Wednesday. Doug spent Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and part of Sunday wrapped in blankets on the couch. He is feeling much better now, but his 104+ temperature prompted me to take him to the doctor Thursday. I am glad I stayed home with him to get him to the doctor and get his medicine. I didn’t want to ride the van to Denver only to get stuck there and not be able to come back until the evening if he needed anything. He was pretty rough off, and says he has never really been that sick that long. It was much more than a cold, but not the flu. The doctor said it wasn’t strep, but those tests don’t rule out alternative versions.

I am glad he is starting to feel better. We were even able to start going on walks again, although shorter ones. I miss getting to snuggle next to him first thing in the morning.

Thank you to all of you who gave good advice and wished him to get better.

Thud!

The hollow sound reaches through most of the house.

Prump, prump, prump… thud!

Mre mrei mei…

The chirping vocal mimic of a bird from little Sprite is heard, and then…

Thud!

Finally, a gasping breath and then howls of laughter from Doug.

He bought a laser pointer and is jittering the red beam along the floor, occasionally racing it across the carpet and up the bedroom door, enticing Sprite to chase it.

Around and around she goes, in dizzying circles, and then makes hairpin turns that would make any fly ball chaser jealous. A dash across the floor and a jump into and against the bedroom door, creating a “thud”.

I only had to wonder for a short time who was enjoying this new game more- it is Doug.

It is progressing, sometimes at a snails pace.

The texture is on the walls, now it is time to paint.

The whiskey barrel pot by the front door now has some cilantro, peas, onions, marigolds, pansies, chocolate mint, and most importantly, strawberries. In the center is St. Frank (known as St. Francis of Assisi) and the spiked leaf plant behind him to add flare.

The trees in the yard, many still bearing witness to the St. Patrick’s day storm in ’03, look better now that I took clippers to their undersides and pruned the branches up removing some twiggy dead stuff. I am looking forward to making the landscape better which in my world includes roses. But first, we must finish painting the inside. Paint, paint, paint. And then carpet. I am looking forward to being able to unpack boxes and actually truly move in.

We were at my parents’ house last weekend for Kelly and Amanda’s luau shower. It was good to see many of the old neighbors from the area I grew up in. Very few of them live there anymore, but they are still neighbors in more of the adopted family sense. We did have a good time, but it was pretty interesting.

Hurrah! The last piece of drywall is up and mudded. Sand, mud, sand, wash any existing old walls to get old grime off, texture anything needing texturing, remove old doors and replace with new doors, and then paint ceilings and walls and new doors. And then, we can get new carpet. The end is in sight! Hurrah! A home improvement that morphed into a home remodel.

I met him when he was two. He was wearing a red shirt, and was in pin striped overalls- a train engineer complete with cap. “Hi… I’m Kelly.” The six of us grew up in the back yard, and were called by my mom the “ABC Kids”. Amy Brian Christy. Kelly was the youngest, and ended up being the strongest.

Fast forward 25 years, and now he is getting married this summer. In typical backyard neighbors fashion even though no one lives in the old neighborhood anymore, let alone next door, there is going to be a party in my parents’ back yard- a Luau for Kelly and his beautiful gal in honor of their wedding. I am glad I have a new flower shirt from the Buffett concert to wear. Perhaps we should bring that peanut sauce and the stuff for Mai Tai’s… “Breathe in, Breathe out…” Anyone have a beach ball?

Ron & Michelle invited us over on Saturday to watch their son play soccer and to go to church and dinner. We had a great time, and enjoyed going to Jose’ O’Shea’s which sounds Irish, but is very much Tex-Mex margaritas included. We had not gotten the chance to just go hang out with anyone in the last several months due to the house, moving, and the home improvements that have “feature creep”-ed into a basement remodel.

I am proud of Doug and I. He has worked so hard on the drywall and the new doors and their frames. It is a learning experience for both of us, and thanks to Ron and Lee, they have taught us both more about how to move walls, hang drywall, and frame in new doors. Doug has pulled cable throughout the house so now it is wired for internet and tv. I have done various tasks from replacing shower heads to weeding the front lawn by hand. The house will be a whole new place after this major improvement project is done. I am looking forward to getting it all finished, and having people over for a party.

We had a great time at the Buffett concert. And that is not just because of the Margaritas and Mai Tais. Doug made some really good salsa and awesome food. The neighbors in the parking lot enjoyed it as well, and wanted us to come to their house today for a party. I think instead we are going to work our way home, so that we don’t have a 15 hour drive Monday which would make Tuesday really rough. The concert was a blast especially listening to the Parottheads singing the additional words to the songs. And the guy at the front desk of the hotel had an intesting statement of one drunk guest- I would like to report a drunk caucasian male in his thirtys in a suburban wearing a flowered shirt. Hmmm… describes the majority of the people in the Frisco Plano area.

Yes, I am a geek.

One who uses technology to my benefit, advantage, and definitely for entertainment.

While I was packing last night, I thought to myself that it would be nice to have Sirius Radio,
as then we could listen to Radio Margaritaville on our voyage. I asked around at work to see if
I could borrow any of the Sirius radios left in stock, but I was met with lots of opposition. Alas,
I had to find other methods of opportunity.

Enter online streaming from RadioMargaritaville.com.

However, driving down the road, how was I supposed to get to a computer, let alone Internet Access? Then I thought to myself,
‘Self, I have a computer, a nice laptop, actually!’. Well that takes care of the computer, but what
about Internet access. Enter GEEK. Long story short, I hacked my Palm phone to connect my computer
to the Internet, and with Christy’s tape-deck replacement cd player, voila, streaming Radio Margaritaville on the Car Radio.

So as Christy and I are driving south of Pueblo, listening to Buffet-style tunes, I am writing this blog entry.

Yes, I am a geek.

Christy just asked if I was proud of myself for this. A resounding YES I AM! is the answer.

Blame it on Buffet.

“I would never drive to Texas just for a concert. You’re crazy.” –co-worker
“Do you not know me by now?”- me
“Ah, right.” –co-worker

Jimmy’s view of the Parrot Heads… “My interpretation is that they are basically pretty normal people with a slight strain of insanity in their makeup.”

http://www.margaritaville.com/about_jimmy6.php

“The 1985 Fall issue of Country Hits described it best, “All of the reviews written about Jimmy Buffett over the past several years have seemed to have a couple of things in common: first, the reviewers enjoy and admire Buffett and his music; and second, these same writers are at their wits end trying to come up with a nice pat label to pin on the man.” Their recent attempts would indicate that Buffett is a `unique, funky, easygoin’, charismatic, enigmatic, colloquial, progressive, intellectual, maverick country-folk-rock singer/songwriter/performer.’”

http://www.margaritaville.com/about_jimmy3.php

If you know Doug, it becomes perfectly clear why Doug is a Parrot Head.
And if you know me, you will understand why I will go to Texas… just to see him smile. Or cry happy tears.

I know someone who buys his gal fancy handbags, and another who goes out to operas and plays. I am taking my guy to see Buffett because he is a Parrot Head.

What do you do to make your sig. fig. smile? To what lengths will you go to make them happy, and what simple things make them happy too?

I have updated a bit of my own page, and have finally found the first picture of Sprite, our second kitten. Neither are as small now as they are on this page.

www.geocities.com/chy2400/FamilyOur.html

www.geocities.com/chy2400/RecentUpdates.html