URI - Part II; Banking; Lunch and a Cheery Greeting; Grocery Shopping; "The Missing"; Cats and Shopping Bags; Mail and Prior Occupants; Ladder, Saw, Birds' Nest

I think I feel better today. I was able to do quite a bit without getting too tired.

I deposited the down payment on the Saturn at the bank today. For some reason, I always get the clerk who has the charm and warmth of road kill. If I watch carefully, I can tell that she is fighting to keep the scowl off her face. I certainly never recall anything approaching a grin or, miracle of miracles, a smile. She appears to know one word: "Next!"

Over the years, I've encountered this type of personality at many a bank. Is this another institution that has a secret school to teach certain minions in the art of surliness?

I also needed to get some new checks, which meant I had to see one of the managers. They already had the info, but obviously it was not on the old checks.

She had a young male trainee in a dark green polo-like shirt with her. Gads was he a delight. I'd let him play with my safety deposit box any day.

I then tottered off to lunch to the same buffet place I hit almost every day. Here the feel is light years different from the bank. There's always a cheery greeting. I'm even known by name. The service is always efficient. And I've made a special effort to tell the manager how much I appreciate his staff.

While I was there I made a call to the doctor's office for a refill of Lexapro.

Next was WalMart. I needed canned cat food, dust masks, bottled sweet tea, bath tissue, vacuum cleaner bags, mousse, unscented bug spray and cake muffins. I've given up on the idea of not having something sweet to nibble on as a midnight snack.

Somehow I stumbled on cake muffins. The ones I buy come in a package of a dozen and are obviously intended for a kid's party. They mostly have multi-colored toppings highlighted with a small plastic form. Last week, I had yellow, blue and red smiley faces. This batch appears to be Sponge Bob and cohorts.

As I was coming out of the store, I glanced over at the posters of missing people. How do people go missing? Runaways? Domestic disputes? Changed identities? Death? Abducted? The best estimate I could find on the web is that around 800,000 people go missing every year in the US. How terribly sad.

Once home, I hauled everything inside. The cats at usual had to know what every bag contained. They usually do this by hopping on the counter and sticking their noses into each bag. It took about ten minutes to place everything.

I then meandered out to the mailbox. For some very odd reason, mail addressed to my father has started to appear. Although, mother never changed the listing for a couple of bills that are still listed in his name, this is totally unrelated. And has only started recently.

I spent an hour or so, carefully dust masked, raking up leaves and straw. I then took the ladder and the reciprocating saw and cut off the lower limbs from four or five trees. I'll come back tomorrow and cut them up.

On one of the limbs, I came across an old bird's nest. It was a marvel of construction. The bottom consisted of dozens of small pieces from plastic bags, inside this was a layer of pine bark, and then the out sides were built up of straw, tiny twigs, and grass. I almost came to tears wondering what had happened to its occupants.

By the time all this was done, I came in and took a long nap. And so here I am.

PAX!