SATURDAY ACCOMPLISHMENTS

Slept late. Not sure why. 9:00 AM. Raced downstairs in my nightshirt to check on Peg. Absolutely fine. In kitchen at butcherblock having bananas with cream and sugar. Some dreadful crap on TV. History Channel. Murders and voodoo and missing boys and chasing the Rugarou--like Sasquatch or the Yeti--in the bayous of Louisiana. Discussed how awful it was for about ten minutes, after which I became thoroughly hooked and stayed watching, in my nightshirt, teeth unbrushed, hair uncombed, for over an hour, getting the creeps and worried sick about the two boys lost in the swamp. Raced to take a shower. Raced back. BOYS FOUND! But turned out to be a two hour show, continues tomorrow or next week, when we find out who's responsible for all the murders. COULD be the Jugganau Family (swamp inbreds) see, or, well, could be the Rugarou (from the French, Loup de Loup: werewolf). If the case is not wrapped up by September 4th, am changing my flight.

Peg meanwhile did 8 more thank you notes, after which we went through three trays of saved correspondence, all of which she saved, and half of which I pitched when she was looking at the TV. Then while she napped I tried to empty a few more cupboards and add to the Tag Sale Pile on the porch. It is now my personal belief that while we sleep, the Rugarou is sneaking into the house and re-filling all the cupboards and drawers.

I also weeded or three hours, the result being I have had to take a couple of Advil because I ache.

Peg woke at 6:30 for Shepherd's Pie and mash and stir fried leeks and savoy and mushrooms, plus some ramps, wild onion things I found at Berkshire Organic last week and needed to use before I found them decaying in the fridge in six months. She's now sleeping at the butcherblock while "Foreign Correspondent" with Joel McCrea and Laraine Day blares.

Have made an initial foray into her address book file. A project for tomorrow. Twelve million wads of loose pages of typed out, alphabetized names and addresses and phone numbers, all duplicated at least six or seven times in various wads, all meticulously compiled by former employees, at Peg's request, and then forgotten in folders and never actually coordinated or put into a usable binder. Had a look at one of the "A" pages just now and immediately crossed off eleven of the entries. "A" for All Dead. With any luck can cull this down to a three page address book.

It's lonely here without Bonnie working. Plus I have to shovel up after Peg, which Bonnie is good at and I am not. Well, am OK at it technically, but Bonnie does it with better humor.