Up The Un-Tracked Streets

On the seventh of February I wrote that I thought my companion had had one of those hot totties.  I started drawing in the graffiti book called Walls.  She was in the kitchen for a bit but while I was writing she sat down with her embroidery.  I sat with her.  The host and hostess—her sister—made sourdough.  I got some air for a bit with some of the people.  The pizza came and I was seated at the table with the hosts and my companion.  Later I played poker with a couple of the insiders.  Then I sat near one of the clients—they had shown up earlier in the day.  The other came out with a little pizza that he set on the ottoman for us.  That was when I returned to the table and the hostess ended up sitting next to me.  We had more pizza.  However, when even more pizza came, my companion, who had come to sit next to me by then, said I shouldn't eat it because I had had enough.

I ended up going through the scrabble board around then.  I had wanted to make it happen earlier but a number of people had been playing a word game online.  My companion was still sitting next to me. We ended up exploring the games closet together.  I had found that few pieces were missing and ended up organizing the whole thing to closet to find them.  Eventually I discovered that there was another board and got the needed pieces from that set.

My companion gave me some sourdough with avocado and cheese around then.  I asked one of the clients about his pants and we talked about Al's attire.  I had a lot of celery then.  I went out with one of the machinists and our neighborly friend but ended up instead walking around the neighborhood for a bit.  My companion and I went for a walk shortly after this.  I put my shoes on and waited.  I kept being nervous about upsetting her.  It was snowing heavily then.  We walked up the un-tracked streets and talked about un-charted stuff.  Then, when we went down the tracked streets, we talked about more serious stuff like relationships and work.

Back at the house, snowfall had caked my jacket and hat.  I had to find a good place to hang them.  I had placed them on the deck but later I found my hat inside.  After that I moved everything upstairs.  After that I started rounding people up for the scrabble game.  One team ended up being the mother form the other family and one of the machinists.  Our neighbor friend, with the help of another machinist, ended up putting down a fifty point word and winning eventually.  My companion and I came in last.

The rain was violent all night long.  I had spoken with Betsy about going skiing before I went to bed but it had rained all night long and I gave up when the alarm went off around 645.  When I came down there was bacon, French toast and fried chard with feta.  I started helping with the cleaning after hearing the machinist and my companion discuss the formation of a Machinist Mafia headed by our hostess—who called herself the dictator.  I think I had been upstairs alone around hen.  I collected the bottles and brought them and the garbage down to the garage.  Later I swept the kitchen and then went upstairs to get the notebook.

I sat at the table through the Mediterranean lunch and I noticed that my companion had been making a ginger concoction.  One of the machinists had found that the burner had gone out.

This is an occasional series chronicling my life. This Notebook Analysis series is meant to be contemporaneous piece developed as an agglomeration of my notebook pages. In each of these posts I used my notes to develop my recent thoughts.