Long Day

Started raining around midnight last night and never stopped. I had no electricity when I got home, built a small fire and ate left-over chinese food. Filling, but nothing more: too sweet, over-cooked. Read a John Sandford novel and never got around to writing. In truth, I don't remember what I did yesterday. Gave Trish a tutorial on wrapping paintings. Got home, read by oil lamp and candles, went to bed early. I knew the driveway would be terrible this morning, and it was. A dozen layers of wet leaves is as slick as Mississippi gumbo. I came down in 4-wheel low, second gear, and it was one of the three or four times every year that I descend barely under control. Brought a change of clothes and my shaving kit, because if it rains all day, as predicted, I'll never get back up the hill. It does rain all day, not hard, but enough that I run the sump pump. I'm supposed to docent three art history classes through the Carter's today and I want to check some facts, so I'm at work early, reading, and I'm the only one there. Trish and her husband are off to DC, for a day of sight-seeing in the rented van, before picking up the paintings, D's at school, Pegi's at the Circus, TR is not in yet, and there is no receptionist, Marge (our Tuesday morning person) had a heart attack on Monday. Kelly calls, and she can't work the desk in the afternoons, while Bev is on vacation. Interesting, how badly things can work out. So I'm the receptionist, reading about Carter, when the deaf students arrive for their tour. Pegi comes in at the last second, takes them through The Dolls, and then TR takes them through the rest of the museum. These kids are great, except they want to touch everything, BUT they are great, their enthusiasm is contagious, Pegi and TR are both lit up. At noon, I start taking the college classes through the permanent collection. I don't use any notes because I know way too much about this particular collection and the people involved. Sara knows more than me, about this particular thing, but I really must present it well, because they gave me a card and a gift certificate at Wal-Mart. Nobody had ever done that before, what 'm used to is a pat on the back and a cup of coffee. The third tour was Margaret's best class, walking two blocks in the rain, and another class tagged along, Riders Of The Storm, so I almost had to docent in batches. But it turned it out they were actually listening, hard to believe, and I never had to repeat myself. They liked me, and maybe that's reason enough. Actually, I think I'm a pain in the ass. If anyone listened.