(no subject)

I'm sitting here listening to Gene and Melynda, and I just wish we had another bedroom so I could live here with them. I love them, really. There's something about them.

So my weekend. Ate a nice lunch at Manuel's (chicken flautas with verde sauce) with Cate, them we headed back to Canyon Lake. Via Home Depot for a ladder and and down the river road so I could see where there's still sheet metal twisted in the top of the trees from the flood. I like the Little House so much, and the hot tub is divine. We drank a nice red wine and sat out there to see the stars come out last night, discussing all kinds of important things that I never get to talk about with a person who knows something. Watched the last episode of the Sopranos, and one of the most awful movies ever Eye of the Beholder. What the hell was that piece of nonsense? I'd like to know if there was a plot of some kind. Good to know kd lang is a horrible actress. We stayed up late, and it was nice.

Woke up to the cold, which is multi hued grey and gorgeous beyond words in the Hill Country. We drank out coffee in the hot tub, another superb moment. I had no clue that owning a hot tub could be so nice. I want one now too. Or perhaps just to live part time at the Little House. On the way back, we had a huge lunch at Threadgills. Mmm fried okra.

I felt so relaxed and peaceful out there, after all the recent stress. I love the Ernest Hemmingway suite, and how it gets so dark out there at night.

Tonight, I stayed out way too late. But I was having another scattershot delightful conversation with Tom. (Poor Sam was reading Emerson and complaining.) I kept telling myself I'd go home, but it's hard to walk away when you're telling strange stories, especially with someone new. I'm glad.

So now I'm watching Gene iron, and listening to Melynda talk about her weekend in Dallas. It's happy. God, I'm tired. I have to go work tomorrow.