Now that we are back home, my blog posts are going to be so quotidian. Like today, the most noteworthy thing that happened was my bus ride to work: first a woman got on and paid in nickels, which took forever, so even the bus driver was like, "Lady, people are trying to get to work," and then we got up to the Capitol Square and the bus driver made us all get off the bus and get onto another one. He never did explain why. Luckily nobody said anything when I slunk into work eight minutes late, but they would probably all understand anyway, since most people on campus take the bus. Parking is expensive and in short supply on campus, so only the faculty and the really lazy people pay for it. I have always been a big believer in mass transit anyhow, even back when I worked in the private sector and we had a huge parking lot at work, but I insisted on taking the bus on those days when it was too awful to bike. Everyone thought I was nuts, but I was saving the world! I was being kind to the environment! You get older and those arguments are less persuasive, because you think, "I'm one person, and it's corporate pollution that's really ruining the environment," but I'd still rather take the bus than have to drive onto campus and dodge undergraduates sauntering across the street and looking at their phones instead of their surroundings.
This evening I was thinking of going to a concert, or possibly the Tenebrae service, but working two days after my vacation has taken it all out of me, so I stayed home and prayed the rosary with the Ladies and then did Night Prayer. I was using the new shell rosary I'd gotten at the Holy Family Shrine, and I was leading the third decade when I realized it had only nine shells. Oops! Of course all the other decades were fine. I think it's a handmade rosary, probably made by some kind lady supporting the Shrine by making rosaries for them to sell in their gift shop. I was surprised about how low-key they are about donations; there wasn't a box for putting money into, and the gift shop was just a few rosaries. They must get enough big donations that they don't have to worry about little ones from random travelers stopping in to pray.
Here is a funny story about how I have no short-term memory anymore at my advanced age: when Travalon and I were getting ready to swim at the hotel outside of Des Moines, in the Goldilocks pool, I put my rings and purse into the drawer in the nightstand. Then I thought, "I might as well charge my phone while I'm swimming," but the phone was in my purse, and I couldn't find my purse!! We had just eaten at the Machine Shed restaurant next door, so Travalon called them, and they looked where we had been sitting, but there was no sign of my purse. (Of course not; it was in the drawer.) I was just about in full-fledged panic mode when I suddenly remembered putting it in the drawer. What a ding-dong!
Famous Hat
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