Some Days You Can Elude the Bears

...with apologies to matociquala for the continued abuse of her name


Yesterday, nothing was resolved -- even something that we had been assured would be resolved (for some value &c) by Thursday. This being the Most, um, Exciting thing hanging fire, there was much disappointment, not to mention disarray, in the halls of the Confusion Factory.

All that being so, last night kinzel picked me up from work and, in accordance with my Evil Plan, drove us to the ocean. We walked the beach until the coolth and the breeze became more than even fanatical saltwater and sand folken were willing to deal with, and back home we came, to partake of the cheesy spicy chicken kinzel had forethoughtfully prepared, and to talk until 'way too late, over what was probably one too many glasses of wine.

This morning, we were up earlyish to take Mozart down to the spa to (alas) have him shaved. He is now a wonder of mat-free softness, and very glad to be home where there are no crazy ladies with mat knives and electric shavers.

While Mozart was enjoying this Just for Him time, we had a couple of omelet sandwiches at the truck stop Subway, drove out to the PO Box (no, the Thursday-news has not yet arrived), and window-shopped some used Subarus at the local used Subaru place. It's become apparent that we absolutely do need a second car, but how we're to arrive at one is a Mystery. I fear that we shall have to Be Creative.

It's funny, I'd always thought -- foolishly, as it now seems -- that in my mid-fifties I would no longer be obliged to live by my wits. Why I thought that escapes me at the moment; perhaps a dream of a deserved and privileged prosperity in old age left over from a blue collar childhood. Ah, well.

After a well-deserved nap, I'm actually working -- and will now fall to again, having had this short and pleasant break.