Reap the Wild Wind

Larry, the little black cat bent on stealing your soul, is staring at me intently. He wants me to assume the Scratch Mr. Cat position, which I will - in a minute or two, or so. This week started out as the last few days of my vacation before preparations for the next semester. Two days ago, Daria called me mid-morning.

Daria: You know how you like to be needed in a drama?
Tata: I...what?
Daria: Anya's and Corinne's grandfather is dead. Their mom just found him. They need you at the store.
Tata: They need me and you're calling?
Daria: Shouldn't you hang up on me and go shower?

Daria trusts me to leave the house smelling like an expensive dessert, which I do. I tucked a few errands into the drive but made a bad beeline to the family store and spent the day fielding phone calls from family members so distressed they couldn't form sentences. In between, I shopped for home accessories.

Today, I went back to my day job at the university. Tomorrow, I'll sit at my desk, then go mind the family store. I expect to run hither and yon until after the memorial service Saturday, and Daria's planning food, baskets and condolence cards. I'll blog intermittently, since my new assistant is in training and my attention span's even briefer than usual - but don't despair. I'm not turning into a nice person or abandoning you or behaving myself. Nope.

I've just aimed my broomstick at the express lanes.