Ten-Finger Exercises

quick version of today

The sky has been alternately very dark, very windy, very cold, and now sunny, at least for the moment. There's still a lot of standing water from a hard rain though, and Lola's feet are too dirty to come inside. (Unfortunately, I didn't notice that until she was already in.)

I took her back out to play ball in the wet grass, washing them off a little. She really needed a little exercise, and I shoveled dogdo when she wouldn't let go of the ball. So, that was productive for us both.

I really need to get my glasses changed tho. I missed the one closest to the porch, and probably many others. Had an eye appointment two weeks ago and got a new prescription, but I didn't like any of the frames there. So I checked at the office adjoining the opthamalogist, who I had to see the following week for a pressure check. Sure enough, he had some I like but they're Calvin Kleins. That's a ridiculous price to pay for a pair of frames that may incidentally look better on me but I can't see any real difference in them on the rack. Nothing to be worth $100+. So I still haven't gotten the new RX. Could just continue to use the ones I have that are perfectly all right, but I want a more modern look than these half wire frames.

Earlier today I went to a funeral of the mother of one of my co-workers. Lots of people stood up and talked about her, about the 4H groups she'd started, about the nice things she did for people, the fancy wedding cakes she'd made and the beautiful gowns she'd sewn from a combination of patterns. This was all in the church. After the burial, the reception was held at the rodeo grounds.

I got to thinking, what would anybody say about me? I mean really. And should I start doing elegy-worthy things? How much do people know about me? I'm just the deacon, or the chaplain, and I don't talk a lot.

Recently I filled out one of those questionnaires that circulate around here and Facebook. They're similar to things we used to call Slam Books in sixth grade, either because we slammed people in them or we had to slam them shut if the teacher came in, I'm not sure which. We made them on stenographers' pads, the kind with green lines divided down the center of the page. Painstakingly we'd number each page with a list of 15 or so numbers and then write the title on the top line. The first page was always Name , the second address etc. After we got the basics down, the topics went to things like favorite color, favorite song, favorite ice cream flavor. Then we got into the real meat. Who is your best girl friend? and Who is your best boyfriend?

The list I filled out on Facebook yesterday, at my stepdaughter's tag, avoided the girlfriend/boyfriend thing, but the questions weren't much deeper. I wondered as I filled it out how many of my family members would know my favorite flower or ice cream flavor or book. The survey was pretty long, and at the end, Bill made a comment. "Who are you anyway?"

Strange how the English language doesn't convey the same meanings written as spoken. Reading it, I felt defensive, as if I hadn't really disclosed myself with any depth (which is of course true.) Last night he asked if I'd seen his question, and he repeated it. It was a joke. The inflection and the body language, scratching the head, with no emphasis on the word "you" made that clear.

Still, I wonder what important questions could be asked that would really give us more a clue of who somebody is. What do you think?