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Tuesday, January 1st, 2008
Of matters solved -- and not
Tuesday, January 1st, 2008 08:16 pmWe solved the lack-of-manila-folder problem by arising early-ish from our conjugal couch and going out to breakfast. From there, it was but a short wander up the street to Staples, where, indeed, manila folders were had, along with a new mousepad, because I am Teh Scourge of Mousepads, Fear Me.
Back home, I cleared the 2007 books, shifted the old files into their box, and -- yes! -- made 2008 files, coincidentally filing the stuff I hadn't quite gotten around to previously. By way of a break, Mozart and I finished reading Soon, I will be Invincible, which he liked a great deal, having developed a surprising fondness for Doctor Impossible. In fact, he tried to convince me to start reading it again while he snuggled on the african* across my lap, there in the blue chair, but I reminded him that we had not yet finished the biography of Madame Sadayakko, which we will recommence on the morrow.
No writing done today -- bad author! No Rolls Royce for you!
Oh...wait.
It's snowing, Steve tells me. Be amazed.
Tomorrow restarts Normal, go-to-work, Time. I'm not sure I'll remember how to act.
Hope everyone's new year has gotten off to a pleasant and productive beginning.
_____________
* One's paternal grandmother was a minor wizard with the crochet hook. I have a short blanket that she made me -- all oranges and browns and yellows -- under which I have snuggled and read many a book. The proper word for this sort of throw is an afghan, but my grandmother, being a Good Balmorean (from whose lips we have such gems as "zink"), always referred to them as "africans" and the name of course stuck.
Back home, I cleared the 2007 books, shifted the old files into their box, and -- yes! -- made 2008 files, coincidentally filing the stuff I hadn't quite gotten around to previously. By way of a break, Mozart and I finished reading Soon, I will be Invincible, which he liked a great deal, having developed a surprising fondness for Doctor Impossible. In fact, he tried to convince me to start reading it again while he snuggled on the african* across my lap, there in the blue chair, but I reminded him that we had not yet finished the biography of Madame Sadayakko, which we will recommence on the morrow.
No writing done today -- bad author! No Rolls Royce for you!
Oh...wait.
It's snowing, Steve tells me. Be amazed.
Tomorrow restarts Normal, go-to-work, Time. I'm not sure I'll remember how to act.
Hope everyone's new year has gotten off to a pleasant and productive beginning.
_____________
* One's paternal grandmother was a minor wizard with the crochet hook. I have a short blanket that she made me -- all oranges and browns and yellows -- under which I have snuggled and read many a book. The proper word for this sort of throw is an afghan, but my grandmother, being a Good Balmorean (from whose lips we have such gems as "zink"), always referred to them as "africans" and the name of course stuck.