Better Now

An update, but first, the last Yiddish word I used in the last entry was faigeleh. Literally, a faigeleh is a little bird, and is often a term of endearment for small children, especially girls. My grandmother almost always called me faigeleh, as in "Faigeleh, can you hand me ... " whatever it was, as you might call someone "Sweetie." However, in more contemporary slang (which goes back a good 50 years or more) faigeleh is also used to indicate a homosexual man, or a man with effeminate tendencies. It is not always derogatory, althougth it can be. It can be merely descriptive, as gay now is, or it can be hurled as an insult. But it's not the origin of the English insult fag, which is actually English, as in British, in origin, and comes from faggot, which means a burning bundle of sticks or wood used to start a bigger fire.

Okay, class dismissed.

The rug in the basement is gone, and was not that hard to get rid of. It was a little challenging to get the stuff moved off it, and some things had to be repacked, but the rug cut up into strips very easily, and when the Hubs got home, he carried the pieces outside. I had also left a narrow strip since the stuff on top of it was too heavy; I planned to get shelves and put them up on Monday and then the rug would be gettable, but the Hubs somehow managed to get that out, too. So there are no wet boxes sitting down there, nothing in imminent danger, and I think, nothing prone to smelling. I still have work to do, as in the shelves and re-arranging everything for future safety, but it's all much more managable now. And it turns out that the shelves I need are on sale at Target this week for half of what I paid for the ones I already have, and got a few years ago elsewhere. Score. I may be dropping by Target every day this week until I have enough to cover every basement wall.

I cleaned up my desk. I cleaned up the coffee table. I finished Jailbird. I finished Dead-Eye Dick. So I'm on the move. Next: Galapagos. And getting those bills paid. And I gathered up all the shoes and put them in a laundry basket. Yes, things are looking up. I don't feel so ... okay, whatever the word was that I couldn't find, I don't need it anymore. I'm okay.

Oy. Gotta put the last wash in.


watching Today in New York :: entry #1439