The week before last, I got bit by something – a mosquito, or a spider perhaps – on the left eyebrow.

Naturally I had to pick at it. The fact that I did it unconsciously because it itched doesn’t reduce the outcome one bit. First I scratched it, then I scratched off the scab and the one after that. The skin’s all healed up now (despite my best efforts), but there’s a problem.

I have a little bald spot in the middle of my left eyebrow!

It looked stupid. I decided it had been awhile since I’d last plucked my eyebrows, and I thought a little shaping would reduce the obviousness of the hole. Yes, yes – cleaning up the whole shebang will fix this little problem admirably!

Monday I took my great grandmother’s silver hand mirror and my best pair of tweezers, and sat at the picnic table in broad daylight to pluck my eyebrows.

Fabulous! Perfect. Shaped and thinned and just plain lovely. All a pair of eyebrows should be!

Yesterday I looked at my reflection in LISCO’s not-so-brightly-lit bathroom, and it’s as if half my left eyebrow is gone! Argh! The fine hairs I can see up close are too thin to be seen from a distance! I’ve been walking around in public all day with half an eyebrow missing!

This morning I used a bit of eyebrow pencil, just enough to fill it in. It looks normal enough. But still! I can hardly wait until these baby hairs grow in properly.

That’ll teach me to leave well enough alone, won’t it! Our mothers were right: don’t pick at it!
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I got stung by a bee yesterday! Right on the big toe. Three strides from my back door and the poor bug collided with my unexpected foot and gave up his life to poison me. I pulled out the stinger right away. Brett immediately slapped some cooling Iowa mud on the area, and I’ll be damned if it didn’t work great – the redness didn’t spread the way I’d expected it to. But today, it hurts! Bee stings. No good.

Brett’s home and I’m so stoked to see his cute freckled face. He smelled terrible from being on the train for half a million years, but nothing a quick shower didn’t fix. He had a great time, and half the muscles in his body are sore from all the bike riding he did. He had Ron’s Harley for cruising around, and then a group of ’em went out dirt biking two days in a row and clocked a couple hundred miles. He had so much fun he’s almost gidddy.

But back to normal: Jimbo’s out here now and they’re sitting at the picnic table drinking cans of Budweiser and going over plans for their next gig. The house, believe it or not, is a Stapathya-vedic number called (you’re not going to believe this) THE SUNFLOWER. It’s an ugly box like all the S-V house plans I’ve ever seen, utterly absurd looking in rural Iowa. When Brett pointed out the house’s name to me I said, “Why not call it THE GAY ANAL SEX? Or how about THE FAG’S FEATHER BOA?” Jimbo chuckled and Brett gave me a look that spoke volumes – one of those ‘oh it’s such typical roo bullshit I can’t even be bothered to say anything out loud fer Chrissakes’ looks. Snort!

The train was due in at 10:31 AM but didn’t arrive until 2:38 PM. It was a few hours late departing, too. I’m amazed any business can stay in business when everything they do is late. Even I try to stick to my standard twenty minutes of tardiness; I rarely venture into the four hours late category!

It was great to pick my hubby up, it was great to be hugged and kissed, it was great to see Stella – who I’d taken with me – notice Brett as he pulled his suitcase toward us as we sat in the grass by the platform.

After hearing about all the fun he had, I secretly want to move to Colorado. The houses Ron and Josha have are apparently on great properties with killer views, and there’s the great weather and the beautiful vistas and the sage and the pine… I love pine. I miss pine. I love mountain weather, all cool and clear. I want to go out there with him next time!

My baby’s back. I’m so glad.
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His train was four and a half hours late, but my baby’s back after a swell vacation! Yay!
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It’s Thursday, which means my ‘official’ work week is done. Which basically makes it my weekend already! Whee!

It’s Thursday, which means my ‘official’ work week is done. Which basically makes it my weekend already! Whee!
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The weather is weird. It’s getting down to 45 at night. It’s breezy and dry during the day; it’s like living in Eastern Washington. Clouds roll in at dusk. To go out after dark I need a sweater. Today I’m wearing a long-sleeved shirt, corduroy pants, and socks. Of all things! Socks! In August!

Last night I stood so long gazing at pantry and refrigerator, I decided I must not really want to eat anything there and went to town for a meal alone with a book. I drove home as the day ended: the sky was brilliant with strange and wonderful colors and the clouds were a ridged deck above the fading sunset. At the horizon, the light was golden, and strangely green and yellow, and above it a slender band of orange and red, and still higher it faded to a million shades of chilly blue. It was cold enough I ran the heater in the Jeep. I felt all the bittersweet pangs of late Autumn, that almost-depression of year’s end. And it’s only August! The crops aren’t even in yet, and I feel like it’s the week after Halloween.

Strange, strange summer. We’ve only run the A/C six or seven nights, and I haven’t once been swimming in the triangle pond.

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I still miss Brett. It’s so strange not having him around. I’ve been lazy, taking my own little vacation; aside from paying bills and a few dishes I haven’t done any chores. No dusting, sweeping, laundry, or even cooking. It’s fun, but lonely.

Joe’s around to keep me company, but I’m not in roommate mode any more I guess: a roommate is neat, but a roommate is not a husband for comfort and companionship. It is nice to have an evening chat with somebody, though – without Joe I’d probably be downright melancholy between the weather and an empty house.

Stella moped for two days, then righted herself. Dogs are plastic.

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I’ve still only received three logos and three pictures from my latest web client, and haven’t gotten much done. I’m hoping he’ll innundate me with content and I’ll be able to crank out the rest of the site this weekend, before Brett gets home.

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I am so tired of my hair falling out. It’s becoming obvious now; even with perfectly clean, dry and fluffy hair my scalp shows in several places because my cowlicks are now too light to fall right. My hair is so thin I had to buy smaller scrunchies as the older ones would just fall out. I don’t have any fuzzy down around my forehead anymore because it fell out and quit growing back. If I pull all my hair into a ponytail and twist it, it’s the thickness of an exexutive pen. It’ll be the thickness of a pencil in another few months if nothing changes.

It’s astonishingly distressing to be going bald at 35. I really don’t like it. I don’t like it for the usual reasons of vanity, but also because my head’s always cold. Without that thatch of new hair coming in, without that underlayer of short hairs, every breeze goes right to your head and makes you chilly.

Good thing I can knit myself all the hats I’ll ever need for the winter, I guess.

I’m going to get some Evening Primrose Oil; it’s supposed to help with the hormonal conversion going on (it has something to do with testosterone) which causes follicles to shut down and fall out. It can’t hurt to try. And Friday, I will be aggressive: I will call doctors until I find one who will make me an appointment and give me the blood tests I want. Period. As much as I hate having to be aggressive or even rude, I will find a clinic to sell me the services I want and not what they decide to give me.

At least I feel fine, aside from horrible, debilitating cramps every month. I haven’t been having the mental/emotional problems of last year. Anxiety and depression are horrible, awful things, and no one should have to live like that. (I might be mildly depressed, I suppose, since I don’t feel terribly social, but if so it’s depression so mild it doesn’t come with any self-doubt or grief or fear or any of those other paralyzing problems. I might just be old enough not to want to have the same conversations over and over again, or just lazy! LOL!)
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Here’s my cute hubby (and Jimbo in the background). He called me this morning; he sounds all relaxed and mellow, and he’s having fun in Colorado. He’s currently sitting on Ron’s porch, enjoying the view of the valley, and waiting for Josha to come pick him up.

I guess Ron had to go into work to get a few things done today, but will take the rest of the week off to hang with Mr. Brett.

It’s so weird not having Brett around! (But I have a Joe to pester me, so at least I’m not lonely. Heh.) It’s mushy, but I miss him terribly.

Barb dropped by Sunday and hung out with for the evening; we sat at the picnic table and chatted. She is so the most ideal mother-in-law and I am so not worthy! We talked about Brett’s sister’s in-laws and they are, apparently, quite capable of being complete freaks.

The more I hear about other people’s in-laws, the more I worship Barb. She has some special mom power that makes you know you can depend on her and that she’s always there, but the woman doesn’t have an intrusive bone in her body. She doesn’t judge, or control, or nag, or anything. She’s my idol, I swear. She really believes in her bones that her kids are people, capable of having their own experiences and requiring their own space. Comparing her to my friends’ in-laws, I really have to wonder what it is that keeps so many parents from ever noticing that they’re intruding on their kids’ lives and essentially belittling their abilities to function as adults. I mean, how can you not know that your kids don’t want you over three times a week? Or that they don’t really want to be required to hang out with you whenever you want? Seriously.

Anyway, Brett did call me this morning, and he was in the middle of a sentence when his phone died. I waited a few minutes, then called him back and got his voice mail. So, I didn’t get to tell him he’s adored but I did get to chat with him for a bit and he sounds great, the cutie.

Nothing better for the health of a marriage than time apart, by God!
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