Tragedy! I ran out of coffee. Actually, this happened on Saturday, but Sunday I at least got to drink a cuppa mud at church. Today, Rich slept in till 10:30, just about the time I was ready to go do my errands, and decided he wanted to walk the dog. He's feeling too bad to actually walk Sailor to the field, but instead drives him, so he got the car. Antsy, antsy, antsy, me.

I finally got to go run my errands. First, the Sunday NYTimes and the Personal Journalling magazine. I note, by the way, that I've been doing it all wrong all these years. Still, despite basement floods and a million moves, bad paper and pens and taping things in, most of my paper diaries are still extant and legible. Well, as legible as my handwriting, which is not very. In fact, my mom's writing, going back to the 30s, anyway, is also fine. Then, finally, to Jack in the Box for COFFEE! and breakfast. They now serve breakfast 24 hours a day, yay. To the grocery store, where I got coffee for here, as well as actual food. Then I went off to the florist and ordered a couple of things. And finally, I stopped and copied my court report to give to the social worker early. Since most of my recommendations have been made moot by the events of this past week, it's not exactly current, but so it goes. (We'll see Wednesday, but I think I'll have Sam for awhile. Here I'd already picked Alex for my next non-gender-specific CASAkid name!)

Then I went over to tutor. The teacher was gone today but Sam managed not to get kicked out. We worked on some of last week's words and then read most of the rest of ARE YOU MY MOTHER? I must agree with Lynda about that. As I wrote her: "Sam sometimes is reading and occasionally is guessing. The child hasn't quite made the breakthrough that these "bugs" line up into meaning. (Tarzan reference.) Every kid I've helped into reading makes this realization with GREEN EGGS AND HAM, but I don't think Sam's quite ready for that yet. However, we are closing in."

Sunday, ALL DAY (6 hours! Geeze!) I was watching that Mets-Braves game. Ventura's over-the-fence single is probably the longest single ever. What a game! The New York Times had a couple of lovely quotes about it:
Then came Sunday and a game that seemed Wagnerian in length and ambience, a 5-hour-46-minute marathon marked by intermittent drizzles, with the outcome seemingly riding on each pitch.
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On almost any other team, Ventura would have been credited with a home run and four runs batted in. But being a Met, he was mobbed by his jubilant teammates before he could touch second base, so his hit goes into the record book as a single.

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I'm one pound up again. Must be the popcorn. Oh, and maybe the ice cream, you think? I only walked on Monday and again Saturday, not much otherwise. And the house-cleaning efforts are a joke. Not gonna happen this week, either, with all the stuff I'm doing with CASA.