My Esteemed Spouse is on the phone with his mom, as usual for a Saturday. He calls her at ten a.m. and they talk for a minimum of an hour. I'm so glad they have this way to communicate. I miss talking to my mother, believe it or not.
Today is 9/11. I'm avoiding news coverage. It's too easy to get depressed as it is, and I know nothing is going to change if I cry some more about that horrible day. So far, the idiot minister from Florida has postponed his stupid decision to burn the Muslim Holy Book, the Koran, to spit in the face of what he and his church consider "devil worshipers." Groan. World Wars have been started over less. He has flown up to New York, imagining somehow that he is going to talk the Muslim group out of erecting their education center two blocks from where the World Trade Centers stood. I'm sure there are people who just don't get the difference, especially when they see Muslim groups overseas who are burning American flags or Bibles. As I've repeatedly told my students, we cannot blame all of Islam for what a few people did. And yes, there are Muslim people who are all for an all-out holy war and who shout "Death to America." But moderate Muslims denounce these people just as most of us denounce that Florida minister. Just as we denounce Jim Jones and David Koresh and other so-called "Christians" who managed to cause the deaths of many of their own believers.
We went to bed early last night. I was ready for bed by ten p.m. as I usually am, and even my esteemed beloved was ready for bed. He's hoping that the job search committee's work is done for the year. I hope so, too, but it won't be. It never is. We have one last phase to go through: the Cursing of the Dean. The Dean will do something that will strike my husband as totally wrong and stupid and sure to cost them the candidate that they most want. However, as time has gone by, either the Dean has grown in his position, or my husband has grown in his appreciation of how well the Dean does his job. He even refused to be on some ad hoc committee that was trying to take the Dean to task for something he had done. It sounded too much like a witch hunt to him.
Total change of topic: I'm trying to decide whether to let my hair grow out a little. I like it short, but I don't like having to get it cut every few weeks. It takes time and money.
We signed refinance papers on the house on Friday morning, so I guess I've got money on the brain. We still haven't heard from the guy who is supposed to give us a bid on our screened room.
The lullaby of the rain is putting me into a coma.
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