I am off-track this week, not that I have lost the track – I am looking right at it – but my wheels are bumping along beside it. See, I went to Fairborn on Friday, which felt like Friday; I went to the wedding on Saturday – Barbara Egan Kren, whom I have known since she was seven was beautiful – and that felt like Saturday. Then I decided not to return on Sunday, but come back Monday morning.

So as Sunday progressed and I didn’t leave, it felt like Saturday night; and when I spent the morning in the car on Monday, it seemed like a Sunday travel day. But now it’s Tuesday? Yes, I guess so unless scientists discovered a new day between Monday and Tuesday. I have not checked the news yet so I guess that is possible. Or maybe they did tests and found out Tuesday and Thursday had actually been switched at creation and today is actually Thursday. Well, at least tomorrow will still be Wednesday . . . unless the first scenario of a newly-discovered day is true.

Believe it or not, this is how I keep myself from wandering too far into the insane, out or touch with reality, region. Or at least it aids me in maintaining the charade that I am reasonably sane. Now that I am thinking about it, I believe you can be sane and crazy at the same time. I don’t think crazy is necessarily bad, although non-crazy probably keeps the world functioning. That is why I only have minor “lost” car trips and pretend “lost” trips with the kids. And it is why if I every did head out on an unmapped trip into the great lost it would be in an SUV with water, food and blankets . . . and a cell phone – maybe even a satellite phone. Oh, and of course, a cooler of ice.

Looks like rain today. I am toying with the idea of starting a campaign: All things we don’t need into the garage where they can be prioritized for trunk trips to Mother’s burn pile of put in line 2 for trips to recycling. My walls at the floor level are lined with stuff. Alison freely admits that she had a childhood that was very hard and she is now a collector of food and clothing. She is the “stock up” queen. Now that it is time to get ready for school, we are into the school supply phase. I fantasize about a giant vacuum that would suck rooms empty except for furniture.

I have been avoiding writing about Sydney. He spent the weekend at the vet’s for rest and evaluation. His liver enzyme is still up and we are discontinuing the bit of pain medicine he gets in the morning because it puts pressure on the liver functions. His eyesight has failed considerably and he is getting really deaf. School will be starting soon and I suppose he and I will spend time quietly in the same room. I think if he knows I am very near he doesn’t get up and down all the time. And when I have to work in the yard at Mother’s I believe I will park the car in the shade and put a blanket and water beside it and put a long leash hooked to the bumper or something. If he knows the car is there, I think he will relax and sleep. Maybe I could let Rose sit with him. He has lost some more weight but the vet thinks it is old age and not cancer.

I am living the ending of Marley and Me. Course no one knows, I could go first. Fate is fate. Bury his ashes above me. I’m not trying to be maudlin – just sensibly informative. This is what facing reality can do to you, which is why I like the trips into the crazy.