Ozarque suggested that Toby needs to see the vet. I think he’s just naughty. #2 son came home yesterday and Toby spent the evening lying inhis lap blissfully with his paws in the air. He might have occasionally been looking over at me with a “See? You don’t do it right” kind of look. Then he whined and carried on all night and is still doing so now, because I’m too angry with him (and sleep-deprived, of course) to want to let him out of his room to start his day of hanging around with #2 son.

Said son is still asleep anyway.

He’s been traveling with his ultimate frisbee team and has won T-shirts and also needs more BruiseMD. Classes are going well. He’s thinking he wants to be a macro-economist rather than a micro-economist, though so far all he can tell that macro-economists do is write books.

I got an email yesterday from a guy who writes books. I interviewed and wrote about him for a magazine, and he liked the article enough to write and say he could tell I was a real pro and let’s keep in touch. I was chuffed. I also did well on the press release for the PR firm which is my newest client. She says she has lots of work to send to me if this goes well. I got it in by deadline (thank goodness for West Coast clients), made the changes fast, did it in half the time she estimated, and she said she liked my writing style.

So that’s good. Meanwhile, #1 daughter is working on our business plan.

Rehearsal last night was… hmm… there was an air of fatalism. Yes, we’re doing this piece Sunday whether it sounds good or not. Lots of whining and bickering, but that’s typical for this choir. We had a new chorister for a couple of weeks, and now she has stopped coming. People were wondering about it. She sings with the tenors, and the Oldest Member thought that might be it.

“Peggy,” he said to me.

My name isn’t Peggy, but he has called me that for years, in spite of the occasional reminder that it isn’t my name. I answer to it readily.

“Peggy, maybe she has a jealous husband.”

“Ah,” I agreed. “He sees her up there with you devilishly handsome fellows and complains.”

But it could be the whining and bickering. I’m about ready to give the whining dog away, after all.