Tomorrow's cucumbers will eat us all

Tomorrow we go to Jungle Jim's! And the KitchenAid sale. And maybe to see Phoebe's baby, if she's up for it and isn't annoyed that I wrote at the last minute. It's going to be a lot of driving…with rising gas prices, possibly the closest we'll get to a road trip until we move.

Eric went to the doctor and talked about the problems he's having, and has a new prescription and some advice that sounds good to me, including, "Exercise more." So now we both have a reason to get out and walk in the evenings. And in nine days we'll be flying somewhere that will have lots of opportunity for exercise in the form of swimming.

The mothers asked for a list of what they should do at our house while we're gone. "Take in the mail," Eric said.

"Water the plants?" Edith said.

"Nah, I'll water before we go," I said, and I think shocked her. When they were gone I was instructed to water every other day. But I've only got four plants indoors, two desert plants and two shade plants, and the outdoors ones have mostly been trained not to expect me to water them. I admit the papyrus will need to be good and soaked.

I will need them to pick produce in the garden. Yesterday I got a good number of Taxi tomatoes and cherries and one Brandywine, plus four enormous cucumbers that I'd missed because I let them run free through the garden. "They're baseball bats!" Eric said. "They're enormous!" We dropped off most of my harvest with the mothers. We have a ridiculous number of cucumbers in the fridge already, so I'm going to try to be more creative with cucumber salads and such. I'm sure Edith knows to hunt for vegetables, but I'll ask her to be careful anyway, or I'll come home to find the cucumbers have taken over my garden and are holding the tomatoes hostage.

Speaking of plants, I have a polkadot plant on my desk at work with red and white and pink shoots. The white and pink haven't changed much since I bought it but the red has shot upward, doubling its height. I don't know if that means it's grown or if it needs more light than the others. I don't sit near a window, so I was figuring this to be a gamble anyway. Maybe I should bring in a hosta.

I have done pretty much nothing in the crafting and writing areas. I do have an appointment today to meet a friend at Joann to buy fabric so that I can teach her to make a tree skirt. Since I only ever made one before, and it was a quick-and-dirty affair, this might be overweening, but I'm pretty sure it will turn out fine. She says "I want to be you when I grow up," and that's quite the incentive to do things right. Which I guess means I need to stop writing this so I can finish one last work task so that I can sketch out designs and figure out how much fabric we'll actually need.

On packing lunches when school is out.

The sky is darkening, and the sound of the Moody Blues is fading. They're playing at the Toledo Zoo, and since we live about half a block away, I got to hear a free partial concert. I spent some time outdoors walking and some weeding (and acknowledging that three cantaloupe plants is probably more than anyone needs, and three slicing cucumber plants certainly is). I'm more depressed than when I went out, which annoys me.

Eric's been off the past couple of weeks, and he's been (a) bored (b) listless because of a lack of a schedule (c) not eating or drinking enough (d) not sleeping well and (e) worrying because of all of the above. Thus he called me today, sounding extraordinarily down. When he's depressed, or highly anxious, he gets in a mood where he's low and self-pitying and won't listen to reason or experience (even his own), and it scares me a bit when he gets like that. It doesn't last, but as he says himself, what if someday it does? And why can't I do anything? I want to be able to do something.

I've been doing well at work these days (I'm not sure simple competence should have me feeling so chipper, but it does) and I suggested that I could start coming home for lunch, at least for the week and a half he's still got off. After that is the honeymoon and after that school starts, at least partially, and he should be fine. Until then, I think I'm either taking longer lunches than usual, or packing lunches for Eric to eat. When he's actually working he does it himself, but part of the problem is that he doesn't think about food until his blood sugar is too low for him to be able to make good decisions. He worries me sometimes. He's a high-maintenance guy.

Harry Potter, and no, no spoilers

Eric and I went to the Borders Harry Potter party last night, where we witnessed some excellent costumes, overheard a girl sell her number to a boy for $23, and waited two hours to get a book because we had not picked up a color-coded bracelet. The manager shouted "Want to know the ending?" and got a round of "No!" back, and Eric and I discussed whether the manager would leave the store alive if he went through with this threat while reading the other books we were picking up while waiting. ($80 at the bookstore. It's a good thing it's not closer.)

This morning we read it, together, lying on the spare bed mostly. I read faster than he does. It was a lot of fun being able to react to text with someone, even if I had to hold my reactions a few seconds until he caught up to the place I wanted to gasp or laugh or exclaim at. It was a very good book, and satisfying in its tying up of loose ends. We consulted previous books four or five times about things that had been mentioned coming back. My head hurts now, but it was worth it. And now I can go and read the Internet and other media without fear.

Much better

Much better mood today. The movie was good, very good considering how much they had to condense and skip. Eric thinks the first half was very good and the second half fall apart…I agree the first half was better, but they did okay. Umbridge was excellent. The whole thing was definitely more stylized than the previous ones have been. In some places they overdid it. I also wonder what makes a screenwriter deviate from the book. I mean, in some places it makes sense, but when it's purely gratuitous, I don’t get it. As I said to Eric last night, maybe the problem is that the screenwriter is trying to produce the best movie he/she can and the audience is hoping to watch a movie that's like the book, and books aren't made to be like movies. Dunno.

We debated reasons for vegetarianism on the way to the movie theater and that made me feel better about my debating skills.

I'm anxiously awaiting more ripe tomatoes (I've had a ripe yellow, a ripe cherry, and now I'm waiting for a ripe red) so that I can use up some basil. I must think about other things to use it in--and dry some, too, of course. I wish we'd gotten those herb jars off the registry. (Well, we still can.)

I'm feeling very useful at work today. It's nice--though I've now mostly run out of things to do. On the other hand, I could get some writing done. Tonight we clean, make ice cream, and try pickling. (Sheesh, sounds like we're getting ready to entertain a pregnant woman.)

Harry Potter and the High Expectations

We're going to see the Harry Potter movie tonight. Truth to tell, I'm not so eager about it that I would go see it the first night if it weren't for Eric. I don't think there's been any movie I was so fired up about as all that. And the timing means I need to cook dinner for the both of us (something that very rarely happens) and afterwards I go straight to bed and get up for work a little sooner than I'd really like.

But no more complaining. We're going to see Harry Potter! Right? No matter that Eric has been complaining that 90% of the book will be cut out (though this is the book that I thought could most use some cutting, really). Or that I barely remember the fourth one. Why am I so curmudgeonly about this? Sheesh. It may be because we were going to go with my friend at work and her new husband (we got married the weekend before they did) and she wasn't able to make it. Bah. I was saying before that I need to get out more. A movie is a good start. Plus, I love movie popcorn.

Not a true discontent

I'm sitting here as the minutes tick away to bedtime, caught by indecision and frustration. I can't make a CD backup of my files because my computer can't find a component of the CD burning software and I don't know where the CD of the software is. I should be either writing or spinning, and I could do either, but I can't decide which so I'm just going through old files and things instead. My first tomato of the summer was bland. There are ants in my kitchen. Grr.

I've been having problems with my right arm for too long now. It actually started in my last job, and is now carrying over into the new one. I'm wearing my brace but it doesn't help. I have an ergonomic keyboard but it doesn't help. I'm too young to be having this kind of problem...but I really can't say that for much longer. And it doesn't help that all my hobbies require the use of my hands. I can't be one of those people who are content to watch TV or go shopping, no.

James says he might have to cancel his exploratory surgery because his insurance won't cover it. I need to go see an optometrist because my eyes are hurting at work. (Maybe I just need a vacation from work. The honeymoon's in four weeks. I shouldn't be using my hands for much except putting on sunscreen.)

We planned to put together wedding albums for our parents, but we aren't doing it and I don't know where to go to get prints since we refuse to go to Walmart. I need to attend to something on the garden blog, and I haven't been posting here as much as I'd like. There are a lot of things we're not doing because our schedules don't mesh, and that separation brings out our laziness. Though Eric did go to Andersons today for produce and pickling supplies. All I've done is plant some seeds and do some dishes. I guess that's something.

I'm really not in that bad a mood...just thinking, and tending towards dissatisfied since I feel I haven't gotten anything done. But then, continuing to write down all the piddly things that discontent me doesn't get much done, does it? I still have a little time before I need to brush my teeth.

The weekend outlook

4,355 words today, almost all in my notebook because my hands and eyes hurt too much to type.

Tomorrow I go to Put-In-Bay with ten seventh- and eighth-graders and no vegetarian lunch, because this is the Midwest and nobody thinks of such a thing.

Sunday I go to the old mill and demonstrate knitting and spinning.

4,355 words. I don't think I've written that much this year so far altogether.

That is all.

Oh, brother

I slept eleven hours yesterday. What a great holiday. I didn't see any fireworks, other than a few scattered sparks of red from an upstairs window, but I harvested my first two cucumbers from the garden for dinner, and watered in the dusk, and sat on my back porch in the dark and watched the fireflies softly glowing. I didn't see fireflies until I was thirteen years old, and they're something I would like my kids to see growing up.

Today, I'm at work, relatively busy but in pain. I don't know what's wrong with my desk setup, but something evidently is. I told Eric last night that I'd been having several days of nausea-inducing headaches, and he suggested I go see the optometrist since it gets better when I'm out for a walk or working in the garden, but this morning my arms and elbow were hurting bad enough that my stomach was unhappy again though my eyes and head were fine. I had a desk job for three years before I moved up here and never had any problems; what gives?

I also spoke to my brother on his birthday, Tuesday ("I never thought I'd be this old," he said. Young whippersnapper!), and he says that he may have to cancel his second exploratory surgery because his COBRA won't treat him for a pre-existing condition. However he's got a job prospect and once he got a new insurance apparently his doctor could fix it to make it a non-pre-existing condition. I don't understand this but as long as it works, I'll not question it.

On a Tuesday afternoon

I have achieved empty trashcan! I have also acheived boredom. That hasn't been hard the past several days, but today was especially easy because half of the working force is either off or taking the afternoon off.

To pass the time, I'm transferring automatic withdrawals from my old checking account to the new. Today I need to head to the bank, to deposit my paycheck (real check because I also switched my direct deposit, over the critical period apparently) and a check from my parents to cover the last of the wedding costs. And then to Home Depot to get dirt and mulch for the yard. Figures I'm dressed especially nicely today.

Trash

So I have this trash can at work. Actually I don't, it's a box with a plastic bag lining in it. My first day here I sat down to my desk and had no trash can--I assume the last person to sit here took it with her--and the nice cleaning lady who welcomed me to the company brought this box for me. It's a fine trash can. Wider than an actual trash can, in fact, so when I drop things blindly off the edge of my desk I have a better chance of scoring points by getting them into the container.

But recently we switched cleaning companies. I don't know why. All I know is that for the last ten days, my trash has not been emptied. People around me, with proper trash receptables, their trash is emptied every day. Mine piles up, and even with the nice wide top I can't drop things blind because they will inevitably bounce off. I have e-mailed the facilities person about this twice. He wrote back, "I'll let them know," the once, and there was nothing.

Today, my boss is ordering me an actual trash can, in the hope that this will help. (I only mentioned the problem to him once, the second or third day, and only because he noticed when I stuck my head into his office to see if his trash had also been missed and I was wrong in feeling persecuted. I wasn't.) Maybe now the new cleaning staff will be able to see it. If not, I will have to start thinking up more creative solutions.

Not exactly negative entropy, but we'll take what we can get

This makes me curiously happy. I've been thinking about environmental and economic collapse too much lately.

Babysitting

Yay for the storm last night. That's a smaller yay on average than it would be, since it blew over four of my tomato stakes and also a couple of supports in the Hutterite bean patch (I thought they didn't need support, but some of them seem to, so I stuck a leftover stake or two in there). My pants are now dirty from righting them while they were wet with dew and splashed with mud, but oh well--I sit behind a desk most of the day anyway.

I spent most of yesterday babysitting my niece, Addie, at her house. (Seems weird to say that rather than "her parents' house," but it's hers, too.) First alone, since Eric had school, and then when he got there he took over. Which was fine--I enjoyed her very much, but she wanted to be held constantly and as I told him, I was getting a crick in my spine from holding her and walking around (she wanted that, too; just being held wasn't enough). He told me, "You look prettier with a baby." He was the one to feed her, which put her to sleep, and though we agreed we'd get a different sort of rocking chair when we have a baby (theirs was uncomfortable), he hardly wanted to let her go for me to put in the crib. Diagnosis: severe baby-craziness.

Afterward we talked about what we'd do for daycare once we had one of our own--Addie's parents work different shifts, so someone's always home to take care of her, except when one of them has to work late like last night. Eric seemed pretty unhappy at the prospect of daycare. I'm not, as much, but I'd be happy not to have to do it if that were possible. We could potentially impose on Addie's parents, maybe in exchange for weekend care or money or something else, or some similar arrangement, but we don't have any such convenient schedule as they do; to keep our kid at home before school age hits, one of us would have to quit or work from home. And, at least currently, I make almost fifty percent more than he does (and more next year because of a policy change at work that increases the minimum pay in my bracket to more than my current salary), so it wouldn't be me--unless I could provide some of the missing income by working at home. We know Eric could, by tutoring and such. Me? No such employable skills, since nobody will pay enough for a quilt to make it worthwhile.

In other news, my office plant is slowly dying, probably because it doesn't get any natural light. Sigh. Maybe I'll get an ivy. Or a mint. They grow in anything, right? (If nothing else, I could get some bindweed. I'm sure that would grow here. And the flowers are supposed to be fairly pretty.)

Oh, and I read Jen's post on making rice milk, which prompted me to look up making soy milk. Soy beans are supposed to be easy to grow…maybe I should look into it. I'd have to convince Eric to drink it first, though.

Dinner from the garden

I was good and did a little work in the garden--tied up the tomatoes (who knew I had so many green tomatoes down there?), weeded, picked the last of the peas. And my dinner. This is what I walked in the house with:

The basil tops came with me because I noticed the plants were trying to flower. (Time for more pesto before that happens, I think. What else can I use basil in, in big quantities?) Those peas are the last of the peas. (The box is fruit strips from Target--kind of expensive per calorie, but organic, healthy, and very good.) The two carrots I pulled to see how big they were, and the zucchini is my first of the summer. The onions came in because, well, the rest of dinner was from the garden, so they might as well be too.

I sliced the zucchini thinly and chopped the rest. (Notice my nice new bamboo cutting board? Belated wedding gift from Phoebe. I love it with a fiercely burning love.) The onions went into hot olive oil, then the zucchini, then the green onions and basil. Some salt and pepper, not too much salt because of my bad experience with the Swiss chard.

It actually made more food than this; I was hungry, and I forgot to take a picture right away. The zucchini was about six ounces, incidentally. There are two more, not quite ready, but very close. Next time I might try shredding them with potatoes and carrots and making veggie pancakes. Or breading and frying them. The Gold Rush zucchini apparently isn't as prolific as some zucchini types, but the taste is good and it's certainly showing a willingness to supply me with all the zucchini I care to eat, so I'd better be thinking about recipes.

Recap, of sorts

No posts for a week, huh? Bad me. That's the problem with more than one blog, plus worknotes. Possibly also with having someone at home to talk things over with. Today, we have been married for a month, legally. I don't feel married. I don't really feel unmarried either.

We have our joint checking account now, and we're both slowly switching over automatic deposits and withdrawals. I'm feeling a little reluctant to do so--partly because it requires effort and I'm lazy, partly because I've never shared an account before (except with my parents when I was very young, which doesn't count). I think it's a good thing, but still, it's different.

We talked about potential middle names for a daughter over the weekend. (No, we have no concrete reason for discussing this, but doesn't every non-childfree-by-choice couple do it?) He likes Amethyst a lot, and we tried to decide if we could get away with that--certainly more easily than as a first name, but still. I'm in favor of Trouble, personally.

I finished my quilt at 12:30 Saturday morning, and went to the baby shower in Dayton at 12 PM the same day. One of my old coworkers crochets, and she said to me at some point, "I stayed up until midnight working on my baby afghan for today." I said, "I stayed up until 12:30." She said, "Well, I finished at 10 this morning," and I said, "You win." The quilt was well received--so was the afghan--and I maintain my record of baby quilts that look completely unlike the rest of the nursery, even when I know the theme. Also there was pomegranate punch, pomegranate juice mixed with Sprite, and it was very good.

I should have done a bunch of gardening stuff over the weekend and didn't, but luckily plants know how to grow without me. I should have two zucchini to harvest, plus the last of the peas and--still--a whole bunch of lettuce. (I knew half a row would be enough. We don't eat enough salad.) Marigolds and nasturtiums (so pretty! so gangly!) are blooming all over the garden, which is nice--also one potato flower. Eric said, "I hadn't realized potatoes have flowers. I guess I should have, since they're plants and plants flower." A lot of this gardening stuff is going to surprise him. I can't wait for the first cucumber to give to him--not to mention the first tomato to keep for me.

Now it's a new week and I have some cleaning to do, a few last thank-you notes to send out (yes, I know it's been a month), some vegetables to eat, and some time to think about what comes next. It's nice.

Mishmash

This is what my side yard currently looks like:

I'm killing the grass to put in an herb (and greens) garden this fall/next spring. I tried clear plastic in the vegetables garden and it didn't work, but I did it in the fall; I'm thinking the opaque plastic in early summer will be much better, especially since I bought this stuff under the label "landscaping plastic." Unless it's meant to work like the stupid landscaping fabric the previous owners put all over my yard, but whatever. For the next few months, I'll be growing plastic in my yard.

I have four basil plants (aside from the globe basil that I planted with the tomatoes pretty much to help the tomatoes grow and to see what they look like--they're quite pretty, actually) and tonight I made homemade pesto with my pasta for dinner. It was wonderful. Next time I'll use less parmesan and slightly less garlic than the recipe (straight out of my Better Homes & Gardens cookbook) called for, but it was fantastic anyway. Eric was slightly repelled by the bright neon green that it became, but I loved it. I'm definitely doing this again. And soon, because I have another serving in the fridge and my plants hardly look like I took any leaves at all.

I'm behind on the quilt I'm making for Phoebe's baby shower. This is partly because we had a baptism to attend today (we weren't told about it until late last night, or at least I wasn't told and if Eric was he forgot) and partly because we did a lot of shopping and then napping yesterday. Still, behind. At least I've gotten the worst parts over with.

James's exploratory surgery was Thursday. It was inconclusive. Apparently they did an EU endoscopy and it told them that James's pancreas is damaged and inflamed (you think?) and to get any real information they'll have to go in through the duodenum. So he'll be doing that in a few weeks.

The mothers are going to Germany for a few weeks and we've been tasked with feeding the fish, watering the plants, and paying the bills. Eric's sister is taking the dogs, because they don't want to leave the dogs alone all day and night for three weeks and they're well aware that I don't allow dogs in my house. I feel a little bad about it, but not a lot, frankly. They know about my allergies and that I don't want dog hair and spittle and urine all over my floors and furniture, and in fact neither does Eric. He kind of wants a dog, but he definitely doesn't want to have to clean up after one.

Oh, and they gave me a flat-screen monitor! For my birthday. They never gave me a present then (in April) and I didn't think much of it, but apparently they had planned to give me this but had never actually gone out and purchased it. It's partly because Brenda had once mentioned that when she was done transferring the information from her old computer to her new one, she might give me her old flat-screen monitor, since both had it; but she never did. I didn't worry about it, but apparently she did. It pleases me all the more because a flat-screen monitor was on my list of things I covet but don't rate above having that money in savings.

This week, we're finishing the thank-you notes (I'm working on them now, and typing this to rest my writing hand), calling for quotes on the driveway, and cleaning the windows. Did I mention my family wrote all over my windows with a paint pen? Yeah. A girl came to our house the other night asking for donations to TEENS of the Future or something and commented on it, giggling. Oh, and finish the quilt.

The great thing

Eric is, of course, a computer geek. The computer, the library, and his D&D group cover his major hobbies. The library is very well furnished, especially considering we had almost no overlap in books (we'd have more if he hadn't lost some to his ex-wife) but plenty of overlap in reading taste so there are dozens and dozens of books he would almost certainly like but hasn't read on our shelves. (And we keep adding to it anyway. Also, I read Brother to Dragons, Companion to Owls last night. It's excellent. Why is Jane Lindskold not better known?) The D&D only requires the occasional infusion of a $30 book on magical items or a $10 bag of dice and the weekly $5 for pizza for the gaming night.

The computer, though, that's a different story. When I moved up here in late 2005, we decided that I needed a new computer (mine was purchased in 1999 and wasn't the highest-end model even then) and since he wanted an upgrade, he'd get some new things and pass his old, but still considerably better, things to me. (I did get a new motherboard and hard drive.) I'm perfectly satisfied with my computer, except for the annoying recent development that it won't shut down properly. He, however, feels he needs a new one.

I think it started because his mom got a new computer, slightly faster than his. But the truth is, he likes new computers the way some men like new cars. (At least this obsession is cheaper.) His computer works perfectly well for gaming and Illustrator and such, he admits. But he wants a better one.

So we've agreed that he can order a computer from Falcon Northwest, which does custom-made, very fast computers. He can get all the fastest, coolest gadgets he wants (within reason). This will be his combined Christmas and (next) birthday gift, and he doesn’t get another new computer for three years. The plan is to order it around Christmas, since we'd like to save a little more money first, but I might let him order it early depending on how other things go.

[Tangent: we got a joint checking account last weekend and Edith warned us not to give up our separate accounts. "You've got to have separate mad money," she said. "That way Eric can buy his computer and Jenny can buy her spinning wheel without the other person having to approve it. You have to have your own money. When kids come mad money gets to be a real issue." I was surprised, and annoyed, because (1) we already bought the wheel and we've agreed to this plan for the computer (which will be five or six times more expensive than the wheel), and (2) this was pretty clearly a projection from her own failed marriage with a man who, she's said more than once, got mad when she spent money but didn't hesitate to spend it himself. We've already been operating on our own rules for big purchases: if it's over about $100, or for joint use, consult the other person first, unless it's something like $150 worth of work clothes at a sale or something equally common-sense.

Further tangent: we discussed my desire to put stone paths into the vegetable garden and into the new herb garden I'm going to be developing out of the side yard lawn for next year, and I was trying to think of cheaper alternatives. "Just get the stones," he said. "They'll be much nicer and, what, $100 isn't really that much."

"How about $400?" I countered, since I don't know exactly how much they would cost yet.

He only hesitated a little. "Or $400." Apparently he really doesn't want to mow the grass. But I thought it was interesting that he's willing to pay more than I am for something I want. I think he was surprised when I agreed to the Falcon Northwest thing, too.]

His birthday is coming up in a month, and I'll be getting him a present, though nothing particularly flashy. Fortunately I know a couple of things he wants. But I was thinking that the really great thing about this arrangement about his computer is that I don't have to worry about what to buy him as a present for an entire year. (This is not to say I won't think about it--or that I won't get him something small anyway. But I don't have to.)

I wonder if all shy people hate horror movies; or, what I think about at work.

I was going upstairs to talk to someone about a problem I have at work (a technical problem, that is) and reflecting as I have before that this job, plus the one before, has been excellent for me and my shyness. I always hated calling strangers, or talking to people about technical problems like this; my heart would pound and my face would get warm, and it was awful. But lately I haven't been getting that feeling. I pick up the phone to call some client I've never spoken with and for whom I may well not have any answers, and I wait for that reaction, and it doesn't come. It's very strange. I'm still a little reluctant to do things like that, but I no longer dread it.

So I started thinking about why it went away, and then why it started in the first place. What happened in my early childhood to make me shy? I could imagine that perhaps as a child I was afraid of new things and new people, and got that reaction of dread whenever I had to encounter them, and my fear of that dread led to a fear of the things that caused the dread, and made me averse to new people. (Shyness goes way further than that…but let's keep things simple.) But in that case why isn't everyone shy? Some people positively love strangers. Did those extroverts never experience fear of new people, or did they simply get over it rather than experiencing aversion to it? And if so, do they enjoy fear more than shy people--say, at the movies?

Microscopic examination

I went looking for the reason why the first flower on a cucurbit (cucumber, squash, melon) is always male. Here, I found out, and also found the most beautiful photos and microscopy of a squash blossom ever. Maybe not ever. I've never seen other microscopy images of squash blossoms. Anyway, gorgeous and cool, and they made me happy. I'm very much in a garden state of mind these days. Some quilting. No writing, other than daily journal entries. Does this make me a non-writer? Fickle? In hiatus? Or just lazy?

I guess I'm doing all right

I weeded last night, listening to Steely Dan--so my neighbors told me--play at the Toledo Zoo. We're half a block away, and so when the zoo has their summer concerts we can sit outside, or open the windows, and listen. Once my fingers were blackened and most of the bindweed/wild morning glory had been pulled up, I went inside. For a time I sat on the couch, reading and eating salt and vinegar potato chips with the window open, but it was cold (last time for a while, I imagine--I appreciated it) and starting to rain, and the music was curiously sporadic, so I closed up the window--and, um, had some of the leftover ice cream from the wedding. Potato chips and ice cream. I also had a healthy dinner, honest.

Speaking of which, I've been using FitDay.com to record my meals every day, and discovering that I don't get enough calories before I leave work. That explains why I'm always so hungry when I get home, and snack too much as a result. So I'm going to try bringing more food for the mornings. I started doing this to see whether I need to concentrate on any nutrients in particular, but I’m getting an additional benefit from it, which is nice since it's a bit of a pain putting in every food I eat.

I'm working on Phoebe's baby quilt, and behind on it, but I expected that. Tonight we're finally going to start on thank-you letters--not to mention cleaning up the kitchen. We're trying to decide what to do with an "ABCs of Marriage" plaque we got from some family friends of Eric's. We're both pretty "eh" about it, but it was a nice thought from a couple who don't have a lot of money to spare. Honestly I'd just as soon use the frame for something else, but I'm waiting for Eric's decision, and Eric--as is common--either doesn't have an opinion or doesn't want to make a decision. I'm going to be one of those wives who decide everything, I can just tell.

The first ten days of married life have been fine. Mostly it doesn't feel different from before, but then in a couple of tiny ways it does--and the first time I said "my husband" to a stranger seriously weirded me out. (It was at my coworker-friend C's wedding, just a week after mine, and to which I brought two Tide pens which she happily did not need. I need to pick up my wedding dress from the cleaners today and see whether hers, which we ran dry at the wedding, saved the dress or not.) Some of the checks we received as gifts are made out to "Mr. and Mrs. [him]," which kind of worries me--Eric says the banks are pretty undestanding about this, though. And if not, well, it's not like we need the money; they're gifts, after all. Overall, life right now is pretty good.

Why I've been Googling gastroenterology

"I haven't told Dad this yet," my brother said over the phone tonight. "But I will. And then I'll ask him to help me explain it to Mom."

He's been having stomach pain and general malaise for a while. He went to the doctor and they determined that the problem was his pancreas, because it was completely inflamed. They tried drugs, they tried an MRI, nothing's worked and the only thing they've figured out is that there's a big mass in his pancreas. So he's having a biopsy next month.

"There are only three things it could be," he said. "A kidney stone, a benign tumor, or a malignant tumor. They said that if it's one of the last two they'll schedule surgery for me that same week."

He said a couple times that it was "nothing to worry about," but he also said, "If you guys have any ideas, let me know. Though I've done some Googling and I think the doctors are right." Apparently his doctor is consulting his entire group because they can't figure out what's going on and he really shouldn't be having the symptoms he's having.

At the end of our conversation he said, "Love you, sis." He hasn't said that to me in years and years. He asked me to check up on him, and I said I would--I've been feeling guilty lately because he always calls me before I call him, so I would anyway, but now I'm going to be extra-careful to talk to him often. And if he does end up needing surgery, I'll fly out to see him. And then I'll kick his ass, because that's what big sisters do.