Sunny, Sailboats

August 1, 2008

*Saturday. Sunny. Supposed to be about 64 degrees. Saw a sailboat out the bedroom window powered by the breeze that blows today. Tom and I went to breakfast with the intent of eating at Salmon Canyon Cafe. The sign said Closed. Family Emergency. I ran to Walt's. The owners of Salmon Canyon were involved in the airlift car accident on Hiway 305 yesterday. The accident closed the hiway, diverted traffic, caused rearenders and another accident on Miller Road. Rumors were not good. Merrill spoke of two fatalities. I heard that if you had seen the cars, you might have guessed no one could survive. I'm saddened that Dave or Shauna might be gravely injured.
*Tom washed three cars today. So nice of him to wash mine for me. I cleaned up the vases of flowers in the house. Colleen swept the floor. I worked a little on my new shop contents. Did some advertising work for the Taste of Lynwood. Tom and I are going to the Waske's tonight for dinner. I want to make a gigantic floral arrangement for them. I think we are supposed to bring dessert. I love to bake. Think I'll bake up a blueberry something.
*Tom loves to take me to the Japanese garden on the property here at night. Last night there, in the swing, in each others arms, after listening to him grumble a little, I suggested (with a smile on my face) he might describe me historically as a woman with a vulgar mouth, who dresses too provocatively, leaves piles of weeds for him to pick up, leaves piles of things lying about the house...He said he would describe me as the most beautiful woman he has seen, with the body of a goddess who has the kindest heart of anyone he knows. I just don't think some things are a big deal. He focuses like a laser on one thing at a time and that makes nothing into something. Also he often feels like people are disrespecting him by their actions. To think anyone ever thinks that.... Or maybe he expects everyone to always think of him with every action they take in his house. Whatever, he is darling about it, in spite of being so sensitive, thinking we are always criticizing him. What a dorko.