In which it's Sunday at the ocean

[rolanni]

It rained last night, several times; there was a fire next door, too.  My daily miles totaled 4.5 and my daily words 1,975.

I slept in this morning, by reason of having stayed up late for a number of reasons, including the above, work, and the upstairs neighbors rearranging their furniture for what I'm guessing must've been a square dance.

On this morning's walk, I met Bo*, owner of a lady and five cats, who graciously bestowed upon me some Vitamin Dog, so I'm all set there for a day or two.

I will note that this apartment houses the Scariest Washing Machine in Southern Maine.  In case anybody was looking for it.

I've posted some more pictures to the Archers Beach Diary.  The batteries in the little camera have died, so I'll be switching over to the big camera until I have new batteries.

The rest of today will be involved with that writing thing, and, yanno, another walk.

Tomorrow, I need to walk up to the top of the hill and get Rite Aide to give me a flu shot.  Also, I need to make dinner reservations for Tuesday.

And write.  This being a working vacation.

______

*This is not a picture of Bo, because by the time I met him and his lady, the camera had died, but it is a picture of what Bo looks like.

Comments

[dormantdrake.livejournal.com]

I admit that I am exceedingly curious as to what the criteria for the title of Scariest Washing Machine in Southern Maine are.

[attilathepbnun.livejournal.com]

I am, too *nods*