Oh, Sleep, why dost thou leave me?

I always get a bit of a shock, or something, when I see today’s date. It’s only my brother’s birthday, his 53rd to be exact, and this year I didn’t send him a card, and I’m not going to bother telling my husband, who will say, “You should call him him!” only to experience the same icy air and lack of responsiveness from his end of the telephone as I did last year. Would that it were not so, but such is life.

This brings me to another subject. Next August 22, if Hubby and I stay together that long, marks our 25th wedding anniversary. I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before. We’re planning on having a party: we’ll start out with drinks and nibblies on our capacious estate (i.e. in the backyard) provided the weather is fine, then move the festivities over to the faculty lounge at the university (we’d better look into renting that soon) where we would enlist the catering of some delicious enterprise to feed the lot of guests and hire a band to entertain them. We want to show everyone a good time.

We’ve been sounding people out about coming. No one comes here, you see; we are always expected to make the long trek to Ontario to see them. So, having received affirmatives from two of my husband’s four siblings and from both of our parents, as well as yeas from his Nova Scotia relatives (who were not invited to our wedding and we consider that a major oversight), we’ve decided we’re going to give it a go. My oldest brother has said he cannot make any promises, coming from the Mediterranean basin as he is, but that he would try.

However, my husband has a brother and I have a brother whom we would invite with no real expectation that they would attend: his because he has done everything possible to alienate himself from his family, and mine because he has alienated me from him. However, I still believe they should be invited (they were both at our wedding, after all, and blood is thicker than water [it really is, especially as water doesn’t clot], as they say). I really don’t care either way if my brother-in-law comes or not, but I know that I will be very hurt if my own brother does not take this opportunity to bury the hatchet and put whatever caused the rift between us behind him, as I have tried to do. We shall see.

On to cheerier things: My husband arrived home last night at half-past midnight after a record trip back from GueIph (eight hours), waking me (of course I was sleeping very lightly in anticipation of his arrival), and then proceeding to fall asleep, making those endearing sleep noises of his that kept me awake for hours thereafter. This, coupled with the lack of sleep from the night before (due to the various odours of pot, chicken wings and deoderant wafting through the house) and my not sleeping well lately anyway (damned hot flashes!), I got up this morning with an incredible headache and so tired that I started taking all the wrong things as I searched for my daily vitamin tablet. Don’t worry, I only ended up popping an echinacea capsule, which I probably needed anyway.

Coffee made Latin possible, and after I taught my baritone I came home and slept for an hour and-a-half. It would have been longer, but Buddy Boy rang the bell, rousing me from my jealously sought after slumber, then decided to let himself in at the side door after I had traipsed downstairs in stocking feet to let him in. I couldn’t fall back to sleep, so here I am, type-type-typing away before I head out to belly dancing. Ah, Hubby has just arrived home with the Volvo, so this is a good time to sign off.

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