B had a day off.

J went to school and saw his counselor.

Both of them are too devoted to online multi-player games.  Okay, okay, a little bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but I don't think I have ever suggested that stopping play would kill me.  B said that if he took the time to call my cell to help me find it, he would die.  He meant his character, but that ain't what he said.

C went to school, attended Girl Scout International Night.  Called me up after I dropped her off all upset because she didn't have her permission slip.  That's because she never gave it to me.  Naturally she called when it was too late to go to the library, which closes early on Friday.  I managed to get the slip to the event, which made J a couple of minutes late to his appointment, exacerbated by inexplicably horrible traffic in Morristown.  I got an email from C's English teacher requesting she do homework over the weekend that was due this past week; if she turns it in she will get partial credit which is better than none.

I went to physical therapy for my feet, which seemed to do some temporary good, much of which was undone by the crisis stress.  (As you can probably tell from above, I did a lot of driving around.)  The exercises I have been assigned make my foot pain worse, although I suppose they are lengthening my calf muscles.  It's hell getting old.

A few spates of graupel fell this afternoon and evening (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graupel).  Not enough to impact anything, but interesting to look at.  It remains entirely too cold.  I recently found my fingerless gloves, which are a help.  I did see a few shoots pushing up through the mulch at the library; probably tulips or daffodils.

Tomorrow is another day.