CATCHING UP WITH CATCHING UP

Friday I knew the time had come to either catch up with my bog or give up on it. I haven't linked to any blogs or lists, and I don't know if anyone will be interested in reading about wihat I'm interested in writing about. Will has given me a list of places to connect, but first I really need to bring my blog up to date. Then I'll announce at Sunday night's Playwright Platform meeting that I have a play/wright actor blog in progress, and invite comment-- and then I'll try to launch into the blogospere. I read blogs-- mostly political ones, like Crooks and Liars and Firedoglake-- but I do it in sort of horrified fascination with what these people dig up, and haven't got into the habit of commenting. I'm appalled at what's going on in the country, and I do have a vision of what a better country would look like-- but I have no bright ideas of how to get to where I think we ought to be from where we are. I read arts articles on line, but the only arts blog I read every day is Terry Teachout's. But there may be some with whom I ought to be in dialog....? Anyway, Friday I catch up on a week' worth of blogging, and learn how to add pictures. Read the next couple of chapters of "1599".
Saturday is my husband's only day off this week. Sunday a blizzard is supposed to hit: we discuss making a run to the grocery but decide that we can cope with being snowed in for a day or two. I will provbably have to drive him to work in Boston Sunday, because there are no early trains and if the snow is as heavy as is being predicted the trollies and buses will not be dependable. So we loaf. Have a big brunch. Clear the living room for some fairly serious tai chi. I put his supper in the microwave and go off to play doubles Round Robin at a nearby tennis club's Guest Night-- the first tennis I've played in months. I return at 11 pm-- the snow hasn't started yet but it is on track to clobber us, a foot or more predicted. I stay up and watch the news, check out the late-breaking scandals on the Huff Po, fairly sure that there will be no choir Sunday morning because with snow over a foot deep church will be cancelled. Can barely haul myself out of my chair and stagger up the stairs to bed: three hours of tennis and my body feels as if it had been beaten with beenbags.