So we're returning to High Point / Low Point,
version August 1.
My peeps are here in Connecticut. And they came to New London to see us and our new house. Of course, most of the visit was the day before August 1, and including many many mad manic High Points. But my August 1 High Point was Jacquie and her kids' visit to the Tavern for luncheon before they left to return to the other side of the state.
Bye guys! Thanks for coming to the Whaling City!
My Low Point was discovering, on returning home from a long afternoon at said Tavern, that something is messed up with my computer or my internet service, and although I can get on my email and my bank website and some blogs, I can't get onto most blogs. Including my own. This morning I got on through the back door, if you will, by going straight to blogspot.com, which I can access. I can create a blog post, I just can't view it.
So I hope today's High Point entails getting that taken care of. Well, the Cannonball Contest may end up being pretty fun too . . .
Ellie, I'm having the same problem! How stupidly annoying! I won't use the same low point, though. I have some rather amusing photos from the last 24 hours, but neither the talent nor the inclination to get them on here from Mark's laptop. Let's see,
My low point would have to be on the standing-room only train to meet the lovely Mary Beth, the train that she and a shitload of other communters had switched to after the first one broke down at 125th street. None of that was low, per se, I was on my way for a night with Mar and Mark and no kids (thanks mom!) and had been promised a bedroom with A/C and a door to close. The low point came after I spotted Mar in the next car over, and we waved hello and I grappled with whether or not to push through the cars to get to her. When another guy came pushing through I decided to go for it, and there was this one moment when I was between the cars and I needed both hands to push on the door to open it, and a big gust of wind came up from the bowels of the beast and I felt my dress start to blow up. (Mar is really psyched to have made my low point)
I have so many high points to choose from, how will I ever choose? The lunch at the tavern that marked the end of our supremely fun overnight visit to New London was just over 24 hours ago... there was that great drive with no traffic, the visit to Grammie's school and power nap on the bed of her school nurse office, the refreshing jump into the pool and lazy hours on the chaise afterwards, dad joining us with a cooler full of happy hour.... so many choices! But I think I'll go with the high point of getting slices of meatball pizza to scarf at the bar late last night. It was reeeallllly good and so east coasty and thin and crispy. Mark just said that we could have had shit on a slice and it would have been great, but I'm not convinced.
My new low point is trying to copy the text of my damn high point/low point just now, and losing it all. F----. I hate that!
My high point was swimming out to, and then laying out on, the raft at the village dock with my oldest daughter. Even though she is still only six, she passed the swim test and is now allowed full access to all the wonders the dock has to offer. It was strange and marvelous to be lying next to my girl out there. I spent countless summers at the dock and put in lots of raft time, to have her lying there next to me made me very happy and very nostalgic. Where does the time go?