Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


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» Friday, December 07, 2007
A Tale of Three Lunches
My three telework days have been busy if not always productive workwise, since I run into continual roadblocks. One order I could have done today was stopped dead when I noticed a small-print notation about shipping fees. We are required to have a line item for shipping; we can't let them prepay and add. So I called the company who had quoted, but did not hear back from them.

Wednesday I managed to have my walk, watch Rick Steves Europe, and even put up a few Christmas decorations. Yesterday and today, however, were a flurry of finishing up the Christmas cards. I've had them out since Thanksgiving, had started them, then the signal dropped out, so to speak. :-) At least the letter was done; I had put it together to send out with the packages I sent last weekend. Yesterday I watched Rick Steves European Christmas while writing out the cards, and today I finished them, scribbled personal notes on each of the 12 letters, stamped, labeled, and sealed all of them, then bundled everything in the car and drove to the post awful so they would be picked up at 5:30. This meant I had to work until six, but them's the breaks.

We forgot to get Hanukkah cards last weekend, so I stopped at a couple of places looking for them since I had the labels, stamps, and pen to sign them with me. I didn't expect Dollar General to have them (they didn't last year), but I was totally flummoxed when CVS didn't have any either. Hanukkah's not over until Tuesday; they can't possibly be gone yet, can they?

Yesterday was the oddest of the days: the Hispanic family across the street, who rent the house, are apparently moving—the house was for sale and now look as if it's sold—and are using a school bus sans seats to move their things. I wondered what the racket was and it turned out they were using our driveway to back into theirs.

I had done about half the cards yesterday and really wanted to walk, so clipped on Willow's leash and off we went—until we were about halfway up the street and she heard the men talking very loudly in Spanish. She turned tail the way she does with strange dogs and I could barely get her to walk half the street. When I walked past to do the bottom half, she dug in and refused to go any further and dragged me back to the house even though she was half-choking herself.

Wednesday we at least got through the entire walk; I was thinking of going around at least halfway again, but Ruth was outside with the three pugs and of course Jenny the busybody came hurrying across the street, followed by Thomas, with Zoey pulling behind on her leash. Willow got all bristled up and pulled me back toward the house "toot sweet."

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