First Day of 2009, A Day Well-Spent

Thursday, January 01, 2009

It's New Year's Day, and I'm wondering what this year has in store for my family, for our nation, and for the world. I met with my friend Mike D. this morning for coffee, and was inspired to hear him talk about his work with the homeless. He put together an art show of the work of Portland's homeless, and it is currently being displayed at Lorenzo's Tavalo Caldo, a little Italian restaurant on N. Mississippi that has received mostly praiseworthy reviews on Yelp. It seems to me the homeless are often put out of the minds of most people, so for Mike to live with them, work alongside them, and organize an art show of their work is to me highly commendable.

Tonight, I met with my dear friend Jen W. for dinner, who brought along a bottle of Chianti (my favorite) for my upcoming birthday. I have long-admired my friend Jen for the way in which she balances her career and motherhood. No matter how busy she gets, she's never too busy to meet for coffee or drinks, and we never quite have enough time to catch up, but we always have a good time. We met while in college in our early twenties, and have been friends all these years--has it really been nearly twelve already?

Late tonight, I had a massage with the best massage therapist ever, Elise Morris of Reunite Massage. She has been doing massage work on me for two years now, and I can't recommend her enough. If you're looking for a massage therapist, Elise is one of the best.

The first day of 2009 has been a good one, but question: is it ever going to stop pouring? There are three rivers running through my basement, all three of which have me a little stressed, especially the one that chose the route through the kitty litter as the best course. I wish cats shook their feet before leaving the litter box, but ours are quite messy, and no matter how often I sweep, there is always cat litter on the floor around the box, and since we use clump litter, it expands when water hits it. Oh, yes--and it travels with the water. Big mess down there, and I can't say I'm looking forward to cleaning it up. Putting that aside, however, our bedrooms being upstairs make falling asleep in this old Cape Cod house to the sound of the pitter-patter of rain on the roof a most restful experience; there's nothing else quite like it.

Now to finish this glass of Chianti . . . and then I think I'll pour one more.

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