If there are two letters on each card -- and there are -- how do I tape the G right alongside the A when the G card also has the B right in the way where the G would go?
To put it another way, I easily could tape up the S T card before the A B card and make STAB. But how would I make STAG? There are no serrations or lines marked for cutting the cards in half and the back directions don't mention doing that.
I've now spent days with a handkerchief pressed to my mouth. Coughing, coughing, coughing. I was up from 1 to 3 this morning, binge-watching Call the Midwife and coughing. I think I did get a little sleep last night at some point, but not much. I'm not as sick as I was, but I don't seem to not on the mend, exactly. I don't understand why.
It's not tuberculosis, Katharine, you say in a patronizing or soothing manner, depending on your nature. Well, I agree with you on not trusting Elvis's Dr. Feel Good to diagnose a hangnail. But I did have a positive Mantoux test every year of grade school until they stopped testing. Every year, the school nurse would get all panicky over my arm and other adults would come look at my arm because my arm was educational, and then my mom would have to take me to the doctor, and he looked at my arm and invited other adults to come look at my arm because my arm was educational, and then the crisis was over until the next Mantoux test. Evidently, a positive Mantoux test wasn't all it was cracked up to be. I kept waiting to be sent to reap the benefits of dry Arizona, from which I would eventually make my way to wherever it was the Gunfight at the O.K. Corral took place. Because that's what what you did when you had consumption. And then you died. In a hotel room. The distant sounds of laughter and someone plunking away on a piano downstairs. You coughing, with a handkerchief pressed to your mouth.
The Siberian maple is budding. Little bits of green. Finally. We've had a number of days of 60s and 70s, but the grass has remained brown until the middle of this week. Yesterday I saw the first naturally occurring flowers I've seen this season.
Although I am still coughing from my shoes up, I took Buddha to the Dale Road Open Space after work. His exercise has been neglected while I've been home sick. I went straight to the woods. I needed to walk in the woods. I needed to step on that naturally mulchy grounds of fallen leaves and moss and twigs and feel my shoes sink into the ground. I would have liked to have walked through barefoot. The fallen trees there are left where they fall and some of them have fallen into perfect benches to sit on and others to step or clamber over. Or, if you have four legs, perfect to leap over because you are nearly nine years old and still in good condition. I saw these flowers, above, which I feel I should know the name of and don't because I never know the name of anything except tulips. It's weird. I was delighted to see them and it was then that I realized they were the first flowers I'd seen yet this season.
Tulips. Bald eagles. Chickadees. Weeping willows. Squirrels. Yup, that's it. Not much of a list for someone who has lived 50 years. You'd think I'd spent them in a tenement in NYC, playing on the sidewalks. I went to camp! I've canoed in the Boundary Waters! I just don't retain the names of things and I don't file away differences so as to distinguish species and types. I'd add turtles to the above but there's that tortoise thing. Or, deer -- which we see a lot in Oakdale -- but I recently saw a moose and thought it was a less graceful deer. John, the neighbor to the -- uh, wait for me to orient myself by picturing where I am in relation to Snelling and University Avenues which cross each other in a completely different city --John the neighbor next door to the NORTH said the muskrats keep the cat tails from taking over the whole pond, but sometimes get killed crossing Hadley Av to the next pond. And I thought to myself "Muskrats. Right. Rats? Big rats? I think I'll scream if I see a giant rat crossing Hadley Av. And cat tails are those tall things, right? And then what are beavers?"
I had petunias and pansies in the last garden, and never learned to distinguish between the two. The pansies were the ones over there. The petunias were in the pots on the right. This doesn't help when you are in someone else's yard.
I have just been learning about constellations. They're in the sky. If I walk over to the oak -- you can tell it's an oak by something and something about the dried leaves -- and turn to my left slightly and look up between a certain tall birch ---that is really a poplar -- and the burnt off tree that was hit by lightning, I can see a constellation called The Big Dipper because they didn't call it The Upside Down Vaguely Like a Big Ladle. Wait, you can see The Big Dipper from where you are, too? Now I'm confused again.