ENERGY BOOST

In need of one. 

We have been working flat out all week, on what, exactly, am not sure, because I look around the house and everything still seems to be there, when all I want is to see it empty. I know, I know, the trick is to make it LOOK full and just chip away behinds the scenes so Peg doesn't have conniptions about me "throwing out her life" and thinks it all looks the same as it did 20 years ago but probably what it is is I've done such a good job that I've started to believe it myself. I see a shelf full of Tupperware from where I sit right this second (Peg long ago removed all the cupboard doors, for reasons that escape me) and I pretty much want to cry. It's all so silly. Who knew stupid Tupperware could have this effect.

Plus the stupid STUPID Treasury Securities Services in Minnesota that redeems savings bonds has yet again failed to accept my claims form. We go through this every single time. The bond is in my maiden name, my bank account in which I would like the bond deposited is in my married name. And they have trouble with this. So they ring, and we discuss it, and I get the bank to vouch for me, and all is well. And they say great, no problem in the future, we have a record of this now. Until the next time. The only part of this process I enjoy besides seeing the cash mount up in my bank account is ringing the TSS and hearing the recorded voice. HAS to be an actor. It's like some routine from Saturday Night Live. He's so perky, and cheery, and sounds genuinely excited to be able to give me all these options about what numbers to push, for what. (800-553-2663)

On an even brighter side, we launched Peg's website and Tim, Website Designer Magnifico, keeps sending me screen shots of Google Analytics showing me how many hits the website is getting: 8000 page views in the first 24 hours, which is apparently wonderful. "I know you can access this yourself, but..." he says, re Google Analytics, and I smile, reading that, because he has sent me the link about six times and explained what to do and so I go to the link and fart around typing in numbers and emails and passwords for about twenty minutes and it must all WORK because new pages keep coming up but none of them appear to have anything to do with my mother or websites so I look at graphs for awhile and read paragraphs I don't understand and try to figure out the answer to the question "What do you want to do next?" and finally decide I'd like to go do something else, which I then do. 

And now for the big news. Peg, during a photo op ceremony at Becket Town Hall attended by the Town Selectman and three others, was presented with something called the Boston Post Cane--an item which for over one hundred and fifty years I was told (because I asked, you can be sure) has been awarded to the Oldest Resident in town. I chose her outfit, did her eye make-up and lipstick, and got rid of a few hairs on her lip (and plucked mine as well). She told funny stories and Denis bonded with a septagenarian real estate agent, Anne Spadafora, who hails from Bexley, in Kent. And who I may indeed get to sell this house. 

Will now make To Do List for Salute to Odd Knut on Sunday. Guest list now numbering 50. Maybe I could give them all apple cake to take home, in Tupperware.