With spring finally in the air, I've been suffering from my usual allergies that include runny nose, itchy dry eyes and itchy throat. The effects are mild, but annoying all the same. When my throat felt hoarse just a couple days ago, I thought it was just an allergy deal and dismissed it as something to remedy with even a piece of Ricola cough drops.
Today, I am stuffy, sneezy, tired and just plain sick. Add to that a pain in my neck that throbs each time I move my neck a certain way! Truthfully, I feel well enough to go about my day, but I think that doing too much might make what I think is a mild cold into something more. Also, the pain in my neck is what's making me lean more toward the idea of staying home this Friday night. Fridays I usually go out to dinner with my sister and some friends, and though I look forward to each Friday night, I think this Friday will be one I have to pass up.
Looking in the paper this morning, I was made aware that the Impressionist Exhibit at the Denver Art Museum is close to ending; May 25th is the last day. I've know about this for quite some time, but never made it possible for myself to go, so I think this weekend will be a good opportunity with the weather being nice, and time being of the essence.
Right before the end of last year, our neighbors down the street moved. They're a nice family, who were renting the house they were in, and had to leave, because the owner decided to sell the house. In the time they were living on our street, we got to know them a little bit. The family consists of a man, no younger than 60-something, his wife who is only a little younger, and their three kids. At first, I thought they were grandparents whose grandkids visit them a lot, and though I still can't be sure, the kids have proven to be, in fact, their kids. Their ages range from an 18-year-old boy, to a 4 or 5-year-old little girl. The reason I'm talking about this, is because the 18-year-old boy, Vincent, is graduating on Saturday May 24th from Lakewood High School, where I went for my Freshman and Sophomore years. Though we don't keep in touch with this family, every now and then they come out to our neighborhood to say hello to us and the other neighbors they befriended while living here. We have been invited to Vincent's graduation, and I thought it was awfully sweet that even though we're not that close to these people, and probably won't be going to the event in Boulder, the boy was cavalier enough to drop off his graduation announcement, and write on the envelope "My Dad is Marcel," in case we weren't sure who he was. I really wish Vincent and his family had been able to stay in the house down the street, because they were a family of very nice and extremely sociable people. All three kids are incredibly polite and helped not only their Dad with outdoor chores (what I could see), but were always looking out for each other as well. Many times, I'd see the middle boy on his skateboard, acting cool, but not too cool to look out for his little sister tagging along, and reminding her to "be careful, or you'll fall" as she runs behind him. I get warm fuzzies just remembering such sights outside my window... such a difference from the other kids on our street who don't display such behavior toward each other.
The rest of the kids on our street are quite colorful. They ride their scooters, bicycles, or what have you and play every kind of game imaginable outside. Since they're outside so much on nice days, I get to hear some of what they say and though at times it's quite mundane, sometimes it's quite funny. Just the other day, I was sitting outside on the porch, and one boy was riding his bike with his friend tagging along behind him. I have no idea what would merit such a comment in a conversation between two pre-pubescent boys.
First boy says as a matter-of-factly: "I've got ancestors that are 500 years old."
The other boy replies: "Really?" with genuine curiousity and interest.
The first boy then continues: "Yeah. But they're dead now."
It made me laugh a lot. It's interesting to hear just what kids talk about right before they hit that age where their brain begins to think of things you don't want them to think or know about.
There's not much else for me to write about. I am in the process of watching the movie, Love in the Time of Cholera. I say I'm in the process, because I started it, but still haven't finished it. So far, so good. I plan on writing a blurb about when I'm done, because I tried to read the book a few years ago.
For now, I will focus on getting better, and getting rid of this annoying cold.