13 January 2004
I really expected Marshall Mannerheim to die sooner. A lot more happened in that chapter than I expected would happen. Which is probably good in the long run, and even in the short-term it wasn't so bad.
I also feel that someone who did five loads of laundry yesterday and several last week should be done with the laundry for awhile. That seems like a good general rule. But alas, we are the filthiest people in the world, apparently, because there are at least two more loads yet to go.
Also the internet has been totally unreliable, playing bouncy up and down games, never down long enough to call the ISP and complain, always down long enough to be a big nuisance. Yarg.
I finished Byock's Medieval Iceland, though, complete with lots of notes, and had a sense of letdown when I was done. Ah well; I'll get Feud eventually. Probably yet this year. I also read a special edition of Scientific American and worked on several other projects. I didn't feel distracted from the Not The Moose, though; I know I'll be able to sit back down today and dive into another chapter. I like this feeling. I feel like I'm being a Mrissa again after months of kind of wandering around near it. La la la, book book. And other books are waiting their turn, occasionally poking their heads up with a scene or a detail but mostly being patient and good. Nice books. Gooooood books.
(Yeah, okay, so I really need a puppy.)
I'm starting the last of my pre-Christmas library books, Juliet Marillier's Wolfskin. It's a Vikingish book. We'll see if it's the kind I like or the kind I don't like. Mark's mom recommended Marillier's other series, but they didn't have that sitting on the new book rack at the library, so I brought home this one instead. After that, it's back to my own book piles and the stuff Stella lent me, for awhile at least. My own book piles should be growing soon, as I expect packages from Amazon from my Christmas gift certificate.
And I had just finished the two letters I owed in the letters game when another arrived from another source entirely. And it may make me do research. But that's quite all right. Eventually.
I'm afraid I'm just too cheerful today. I have the prospects of lunch with Heathah (and, I assume, the two littler of her little ones) and maybe, if we feel like it and can work out the timing a showing of "My Neighbor Totoro" in the evening; also work on the Not The Moose, and possibly even the ultimate conquest of Melvin the Laundry Monster. And, in fact, I was not speedy enough to post this before lunch with Heathah (and, indeed, Gavin and Bridget). And now I'm much more interested in getting more work done on the Not The Moose than in writing more journal entry to entertain you people, especially since some of you haven't written me e-mail or journal entries in ages and ages. Ingrates. No, you know I want you to have lives. You're more entertaining when you have lives.
I'm just going to go now....
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.