Notes on living here

LIFE magazine, RIP

--Got a package delivered yesterday. FedEx guy knocked on the door, handed me the thing to sign, and spent a good five minutes telling us to put the padlock on the inside of our bulkhead to the basement, rather than the outside, so we don't get trapped in case of fire. "Please do it soon so I won't worry about you," he said earnestly, "Okay?" We said we would but in fact it has totally slipped my mind. Sorry, FedEx guy! We'll get right on it.

I don't have to tell you that while the Brooklyn UPS guy was really nice and would leave packages without a signature -- you always prayed not to have a package delivered FedEx because inevitably they missed you and you had to drive down to a wharf in Sunset Park to find whatever it was -- but he never once worried about my locks.

Note to self: Move lock inside, soonest, so the poor guy can sleep at night.

--I had to buy stamps yesterday and found to my great surprise and annoyance that there was actually a line! A long line, and only one guy behind the counter! What gives? This is Amherst, not Brooklyn.

--Turns out the reason Lily doesn't like her cousin's hiking boots is not that they were boy boots, as I suspected, but rather that they are way too small for her. Who knew she was a size three? And worse, where to buy hiking boots at what turns to be this late date? We went to Dick's on route 9 and got one of the last pairs of Gortexed Timberlands, size three. It seems boot season starts in January and they are almost entirely sold out. I hope I can still find cross-country skis for next winter.

--Dave gave blood yesterday at our local health club, and he reports that the juice and cookie quality is far superior to Methodist Hospital in the Slope. Go figure. He also says his blood pressure is very low, in a healthy way, and everything went smoothly -- last summer he hadn't eaten and passed out and scared me to death -- which I suspect is a result of his working out diligently at the gym. Who knew I married a jock? I am working out there, too, but not as religiously as Jack Spratt -- err, Dave.

--Note to self, number two: Be sure to join the Applachian Mountain Club, Berkshire branch, and Mass Audubon, so I can learn to tell to identify all those Quabbin birds.

--Note to self, final: Better get going on the summer camp sign-up, now that we know we are moving across the river. Problem is we don't know when we are moving, so we will have to factor carpooling into the equation. Lily's interested in art camp, riding, Shakespeare, all kinds of things, and we also hope we are chosen in the lottery for Family Camp at Farm and Wilderness again this year. Wouldn't that be awesome! Our five days there last summer was one of the big reasons I wanted to move here (but that's another story).

P.S. -- Dave and I drove by some houses for sale in Deerfield and Whately today to see if we wanted to look inside. We still haven't had a gut reaction of, oh, this is where I want to live, but we're having fun and getting closer. More is coming on the market in the next few weeks, we're promised.