miscellanneous

Tammy is sitting next to me in the computer lab, muttering under her breathe as she types. She's staring into the screen with a mouth a little turned down at the corners. She and I are the only people here, among the buzz of the fans. Much earlier, Molly, Erik, and Shalini came in with Avalon. Shalini played Dora the Explorer games online while Molly looked up insurance stuff and Avalon slept in her car seat, until she woke up -- and then I got to hold and rock her for a while. The soothingness of baby-body-against-chest while rocking has probably carried me through this far. I ought to be asleep after that.

I've been in here since 2, after a morning of meetings at the Motherlode, and it is now almost 7. Karen and Christy and I went through the Orientation schedule one more time, finding bits and pieces of things we need to finish, fine-tuning the daily stuff. I wonder if they think I am nuts to have written down a description of every single session -- just sketches, really, but enough to keep us on track and make sure we cover what we need to. But having all that down helps me know that we can do what we need to, although the people in Orientation are going to be a bit overwhelmed by how much we are doing, I think. We may need to take some reckless breaks and haul everyone off to the Houghton Beach so we can play chutes and ladders and remember that there is more to life than room 108.

And now, off to a reception at the Northern Lights, for the Tech Comm Institute Bob Johnson is pulling together. Bill H-D will be there, and Carolyn Miller, and Jim Zappen, Brent Faber, Steve Katz: it will be fun to see these people in Houghton, and to see them seeing Houghton, and to hang for a bit in the Nothern Lights with its view of the Portage (and our house). If I do not fall asleep first.