Bichon Frise

Well, I managed to get up a few minutes after seven (read "under five"), stagger into Grandma's room, and crash on her bed to say good morning. Lark got her morning pettins there, since it took awhile for Grandma to get up too. Which was nice. People who get up too quickly are unkind to Larks. Anyway, by the time Grandma was finished in the bathroom, and I had the coffee going, Lark was ready to go out. As I passed the sitting-room I noticed Philip on the couch, which is something of an improvement over last week, when I noticed his car first.

After a morning of nurses, followed by lunch, Philip and I went grocery shopping. (Pocky = great. King Soopers has it.) We came home to find Carole in possession of the phone, directing Laurie here. She made it, eventually, and gave Grandma her haircut.

Philip and I went out on The Walk as Carole was about to give Grandma her shower. It was about three-thirty, and the clouds were heavy. It started to rain shortly after we got into the Heller estate, and intensified as we neared the crossroads by the rock. We met someone as we passed the pond: two older girls, a round redhead and a tall dark blonde, walking a Bichon. We exchanged compliments and passed on. It was raining pretty heavily as we reached the tree and rock, and we spent awhile sheltering under the tree. I was fairly dry, having worn my bomber jacket and camos, but Philip was soaked long before we got home. Philip decided to keep along the trail, but as the rain fell faster we stopped and sat under another tree. It was not dry, but we stayed for several minutes before going on, in the direction of home. As we passed the water on the other side, the girls with the dog came back along the far side, one calling out that it was a nice day for a walk. I agreed, and we kept on for home. When we got there Philip's shirt was dripping, my jacket was heavy with water, and Lark still had enough energy for towel wrestling.

Dinner was bisonburgers, produced by Philip, and really very good. After dinner we're going to go see Star Trek.

Well, it's just after midnight, and we're back from seeing a very fun movie. First off: all the young crew are pretty cute. Kirk is hot. Spock, not quite so much--I enjoyed Nimoy in his cameo more. But Scotty was hilarious and Chekhov just plain cute. Not attractive: more the sort you'd want to, um, foster, than date, precisely. He gave the overpowering impression of immaturity. Enterprise was shiny new in the middlish-beginning, but by the end I already felt sorry for the poor ship. What do they put it through, for all those years of episodes? Speaking of the show, I asked Philip if Shatner's Kirk got beaten up quite so much. It would be difficult for this to be the case: from his first appearance as a young man, right through the climax, people are punching him, throttling him, and throwing him against hard surfaces. Not that he's weak: he just....ends up in these....situations. I mean, he got Spock to throttle him on purpose, he very effectively provoked those cadets in the bar, and....okay, the Romulan throttling him wasn't really his fault. Or the other Romulans on the planet drill. Or the wildlife on the snowy star Scotty was stationed on. I kept waiting for bigger fish in that bit. Only two, I'm afraid. Philip elbowed me fairly consistently, even though I was mostly whispering, and I made the gentleman next to me laugh at least twice. I did swallow quite a few remarks, especially the ones that couldn't be expressed concisely. I still got a fair number of elbows in the side.

I need to embark on the process of getting to bed--beginning with telling Trina I went to see it.