4 June 2004
I started a long post about Swallows and Amazons, sparked by a comment in one of Jo Walton's comment threads. But I do not have time to go into it today; it's longer and more involved than one might expect. Today I must be brief.
I got my back fixed to good effect. I had lunch to less good effect, but the company was a plus, at least. I read through all the research material I'd picked up for my contract work. I made tortellini salad with Kill My Mother dressing (lemon-walnut: she's allergic to walnuts), and it turned out as I wanted it to. I watched the Flames win their game in OT, where by "watched" I mean "glanced up from my research reading when Timprov made noise or the announcer's voice got all excited-like." I did fiddly house-ish things.
It's gorgeous out today. It's nice enough that I can wear one of my new lovely brightly colored pareos. I have not yet been able to wrap the blue one so that it doesn't feature a small dolphin leaping up my left boob, but if this is the price one pays for not wearing pastels, a fresh and boobly dolphin we shall have.
June has decided to actually be June. Which is nifty, considering that June didn't seem to get to northern California particularly often.
The local library sends me e-mail with a list of their newly acquired books in it every single month. Two e-mails, actually: one for fiction and one for nonfiction. Just in case I didn't have enough books on my list, just in case I didn't have to drive by the library every time I want to go to Target or Cub Foods, they send their siren song winging through the ether: boost our circulation numbers! Single-handedly justify our existence with your book-related extravagance! Get our books!
And I will, but not right this minute.
Remember the mantra? I don't have to do that right now. Yes. That.
And the main page.
Or the last entry.
Or the next one.
Or even send me email.