weekend in Maine

Kate and I took Friday and Monday off and spent the long weekend helping my folks move most of my grandmother’s stuff (as well as my grandmother, temporarily) up to the family compound in Maine. Packing up the pickup truck on Friday proved a hot, sunburning kind of task, and banging my healing finger proved to reliably produce 10 minutes of sullen, throbbing ache whenever I did it. Had a tasty lunch at a newish sandwich place in Exeter, and then piled me and Marzi into my folks’ Prius (the back filled with boxes) and Kate, my mom, and step-father into the cab of the pickup truck.

My first time driving a Prius, fully loaded, and on the highway, and I still managed to average more than 50 mpg. Clearly a car which favors geeks.

Marzi was in a pretty passive place all weekend — cheery when spoken to, but she slept a lot and didn’t initiate much conversation — and spent most of her time in a brown chair at the exact spot where my grandpa Den spent most of his time during his decline. This spot works well for this purpose, being at the center of most any activity taking place in the house. Meals, games, kids running around… exactly what she likes to see, even if she’s not participating much.

Got some nice hangout time in with the folks, as well as their neighbors (who met us there) and my uncle Peter and aunt Polly, who surprised us by coming up to have a relaxed non-work time up there. Unusual. Sunday, we took an afternoon’s sail with the Cosbys on their excellent, excellent boat, the Szel, and came back talking with Kate about fun fantasies of living on-board a boat someday. It’d force us to control our clutter problem, that’s for sure…

Sprinted home (inasmuch as one can sprint in a pickup truck) after breakfast yesterday, stopping in Freeport briefly and getting home at precisely the time we estimated. A shock, this.

Both Kate and I were deeply exhausted over the weekend, and agreed that we’d put ourselves to bed no later than 7 hours before the alarm, all this week. Last night this meant going to bed at 10. Chatted for 5 minutes. Rolled over to go to sleep. Turned on light to see Carlos and Lucy stalking something in the electric baseboard heaters. Found earplugs. Inserted. Turned out light, went to sleep. Wakened by Kate at 2:10, “I think your phone’s going off.” Got up, dealt with work problem (why didn’t our offshore folks deal better?), came back to bed at 3. Lay awake until 3:45, when Kate got up to use the bathroom. Chatted briefly. Fell asleep, wakened by Kate at 6:30 as she heads out for work. Got up, started slogging through weekend’s email, did phone-interview of prospective offshore employee, changed dressing on finger. The tubular gauze I’m using makes it look like I’m wearing a small circumcised penis made of cotton on my finger, according to Kate.

I’m typinga this pasrasygraph without usingin thiue delete key, kjuest to demonstraete the amount of hassle thue banadaged left index finger is still cauisingp. It’s a hassle, tryeust me. It’s healying ypretty well, as near as I can tell, but it can’t impyrove fast enough for me.