My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Still have a cold and now tomorrow is a clinic day. Always tricky to navigate coughing and blowing my nose while measuring bellies and chatting with the ladies.

I danced this morning anyway, can't miss my dance Sundays.

Rob and Jim are going to be gone all week so no loud noises from them. However the siding guys will be here and so will the plumber so if I hope to nap in the daytime, forget it. I'm very glad they are here, that we are this far along. I see a toilet and a bathtub in my future.

You know, silence is a beautiful thing. Whenever I think I would like to clarify my position, especially in relationships, its always better to keep my peace and shut up. No notes, no emails, no phone calls, no nothing. Of course there are times when I have to confront the issue if it is with a work-mate or some such. The wisdom of writing the rant, storing it somewhere for a long time, getting it out a year later to see what I wrote, that's the wise path. The feelings aren't so strong, the stories can fade (what were we arguing about?) and then bare attention can come forward.

Such stories I make up! And then I become indignant and self-righteous. Because I'm right, ok?Positively boring.

The Anthropology of Childhood: Cherubs, Chattel, Changelings is my next book. Just finished On Immunity by Eula Biss. What with the current raging about immunizations, I though I ought to have a nuanced perspective. 

I'm going to take my snotty self to bed. Or as Scrooge said in A Christmas Carol, "I think I'll retire to bedlam."