Tag: out and about

Come and take a little walk with me, baby, and tell me —

Q: How many witches does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Into what?
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Tuesday.

So that wasn’t much fun. The nerve-zapping-via-electrodes was…disconcerting. The insertion of the thin needles was downright upsetting. However! we lucked in that my patience and the number of needles to be inserted came to an end at the same time.

After, I went to Bleeker and Greer, had an early lunch of ham quiche and mocha (yes, yes — indulge me) then came home via Camden, Northport, Belfast.

I’m going to have a snack and get myself in gear to go out to needlework in a couple hours.

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Lonesome George Thorogood, signing Bo Diddley, and coincidentally the song I heard three times today on three different stations. “Who do you love?”

Below, Park Row, in Northport, Maine.

Friday night roundup

What went before: Errands always take longer than you think they will. However! I have accomplished all my errands.

err. except going to the grocery store.

Which I will be doing! Just as soon as I finish eating the cottage cheese and pretzel that I’m calling by the pet name of “lunch” today.

The guy at SBS said that I was the third stained glass person in on the day, so — good to see we’re all on the case.

The creperie is … difficult for me to understand, and expensive. So I’ll try again some other time.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print at the mom– Oh. I have an Informed Delivery note from the USPS — news of a package due four days out.

Rookie, by the way, doesn’t think that I need to go away for hours just to come home stinking of D.O.G. eeewwww! (SBS has two resident Big, Friendly Dogs, who were Very Interested in me and happy to provide Vitamin Dog, and we all know that it’s rude to turn down freely-offered Vitamin Dog.)

And that really is it.

Off to the grocery store I go!
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Helping me read:
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The day didn’t go exactly as planned, but! I wrote 545 new words, bringing the WIP entire to +/-89,500 words. And I did eventually do all my errands. And Sarah left the house nice and clean.

I was addressed as “sir” in Reny’s by a woman who was horrified and more apologetic than strictly necessary. She had just seen my hair, she said, and, and my shirt, and she had just made an assumption and ohmighod so very, very sorry MA’AM.

And one more argument against the proposition that you can just tell what people “are” by looking at them.

My “business desk” looks like a bomb hit it, but that’s at least partly the printout of the material that didn’t go through yesterday. I can apparently submit via paper, and I’m trying to decide if that will introduce more Room For Error. No HUGE rush, I guess, but I’d like to get it outta here.

I should probably come back after Happy Hour to put the desk into some kind of order. Or, yanno, not. I hate the feeling that I’m falling behind, and behinder. I’m pretty sure I’m not, but I depended on Steve to make those calibrations for me — really depended; I never learned how to do it for myself. I mean, I can — and do — write down the tasks in hand and their deadlines, look at them, and the calendar, and intellectually understand that I’ve got plenty of time, but the panic-maker never stops running around inside my head, yelling, “Holy freaking ghod, you’ve got So. Much. To. Do. You’re never going to get all this done, and then everything will fall apart, and what will happen to the cats, and, and, and. . . ”

Stoopid brain.

It just about is Happy Hour and I’ll at least be pouring myself a glass of wine in celebration of having gotten through today.

Tomorrow evening, I’m going to a magic show (Yes, I am. Stop it, Brain.), which I hope will be fun. I haven’t been to a magic show in ages. In fact, I think the last time was at Messalonskee High, approximately a hundred million years ago.

Before I go serve out Happy Hour, I want to share a photo. When Belle died Sara Oseasohn did a pastel portrait of her. Steve hung it on the wall in the living room, near the cat tree. Sara very kindly sent me a portrait of Trooper, which arrived today. I just hung it up. Pic below — not a good one, but the glass and the lighting kinda stretched my photography skills to the max.

And on that note! Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

We are the keepers of several curses

What went before: One thousand seven hundred and thirty-ish new words, and some plotting. Tomorrow is not looking like a good day to write, and in fact, it may be that Tuesday will simply become a Business Day, since needlework is at 5.

I read 70 pages of proofs, go, me.

I did a little more research into the Braiding thing, and I will not be attending. I had somehow had a picture of people sitting in a circle perhaps, braiding brightly colored string or ribbon or yarn, and telling whatever story arose when it was your turn to tell. It sounded nice, in my head, restful, and intimate.

This is actually not what happens. I mean, there’s a bit where people are encouraged to record their stories. But what they’ll be braiding is hair. And the braids made during the session will be incorporated into a braid sculpture created by the leader of the event, and that? Doesn’t appeal to me at all.

So! I won’t be braiding. I’ll look at the schedule to see if there’s anything else that seems interesting, or maybe, yanno, I’ll just stay home on First Friday. It’s not like I don’t have stuff to do.

It’s dark already, here at 7pm Eastern (US), and I’m really dreading the closing in of the dark. After work — right after Coon Cat Happy Hour — was Us Time for Steve and me. We shared a meal, and wine, played a game — or two — or just read together, catching each other up in comments and in silence. I really, really miss that, and I can’t seem to find anything to fill the empty space that is . . . calm and satisfying. It may get better, once I get at least two of the four writing and writing-adjacent projects out of the way, and can read in the evening again. Right now, I can’t do that, because my day has been filled with too many words already, and my head is ringing with them.

Anyhow.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Tuesday. Blue skies, high, puffy white clouds. Chilly it begins and chilly it shall remain.

Trash and recycling have made it to the curb. First cup of tea to hand. I should find something to eat for breakfast. Eh. Tea and free association first.

The first two pair of jeans I put on this morning slipped right off before I could even put anything in the pockets, so I guess 38X34 is no longer a thing. Happily, I have several pairs of 36X34, which are a little loose, but that’s what belts and tuck-in shirts are for.

This morning, after breakfast, another trek to the hospital, for xray and blood draw. Possibly meeting a friend for lunch and a hand-off that’s been months in the making.

Needlework at 5.

Somewhere in-between there, I ought to do business things and read some page proofs. Check.

Today . . . Today is September 30, the day before The Game officially begins. As you are aware, last year I did not play. As you are also aware, the Openers won.

I am this year enlisting on the side of the Closers, and will commence my participation tonight with: “I am a watchdog. My name is Snuff.”

Who’s with me?

Today’s blog post title brought to you by Roger Zelazny, A Night in the Lonesome October, 1993, Avon Books.

Soldier on, only you can do what must be done

Up betimes because there were pony races in the hall, followed by a sound that my sleeping mind identified as “That’s not right.”

And, indeed, it wasn’t right. Steve has a piece of burlap hanging in his office with various convention badges and buttons appended thereto. And Rookie Too-Smart had gotten one of the badges down with its lanyard and had run it down the hall to put by the bed, so I’d be sure to see it, first thing.

Sigh.

What a good boy.

Tea brewing. And look! I have an extra couple hours to write!

And how’s Monday starting out for you?
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Supervisors on duty:

 

 

 

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Small break to refill the Yeti with water and confuse the cats.

Not quite as focused on the writing this morning as I have been. I did write +/-865 words, and I intend to go back and at least plot out — I use this term both loosely and idiosyncratically — the scenes that are missing. Very few of those, now, which is — I have no idea how this book is happening, but it’s managing to come together, and, yanno — I’m only the writer. Nobody tells me anything.

I really want to just continue writing today, absent breaks for staging the trash, and doing my duty to the cats, and my brain is telling me I could just call in a veggie burger from Five Guys and that would be efficient, which suggestion is entered as evidence for why I don’t trust my brain.

As I said, I wasn’t laser-focused this morning. For instance, I bought a slip-proof mat for my keyboard, since Steve’s desk is VERY slidey. I also signed up for braiding and storytelling at First Friday, reasoning that, if I have something to actually attend on First Friday, the whole affair will make more sense to me.

The addition of the braiding made me realize that I suddenly have lots going on this week, For Values Of. Tomorrow evening, needlework; Thursday evening, my first stained glass class; Friday evening, the braiding thing; Saturday, Magic Rocks. I should also get (another!) blood test and a back xray. I can do the back xray tomorrow, but I’m a little leery about another blood test, even though this one isn’t fasting, and shouldn’t require more than one vial.

The above is also an illustration of why I don’t take every weekend “off” — I tend to decide to do things whenever, since writing is, to a certain point at least, malleable.

So, that. And I guess, while I’m up, I might as well perform my duty to the cats and get the trash and recycling into the garage for tomorrow.

So, I see that the Reimagined United States now has autodocs? And special hospitals that are only filled with autodocs — excuse me — “Med Beds” (gags), and there’s one with my name on it, probably in Solcintra, but, hey, it’s the thought…

How’s everybody at more or less midday (Eastern US) Monday?

Today’s blog post brought to you by John Parr, “St. Elmo’s Fire“

Crafty Saturday

Going to the craft fair.

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Swag has been taken on.

Also, I may have a source for Tree-and-Dragon cameos. Which might be of interest.

A word about the swag.  The cobwebby thing is a shapechanger.  I don’t know its actual name.  If you manipulate the wand, you can change the relation of the webs to each other, and if you pick it up and hold it in various positions, you have either a flower or an umbrella, or, if you spin it, you can acquire webs again.  It’s amusing, for some reason.  Also, the pine cone leaning against the mug is made entirely of brown sea glass found on Maine islands, and gathered by the artist.

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So the craft fair. It was fun. I want credit for not coming home with the four foot knitted dragon, or any of the many hand-pets present.

Only a couple people shied away from my mixed media outfit — Steve’s leather vest over a purple mock-neck, utility jeans, and pretty silver jewelry, and one person gets a star because I had gone out to the car to get a bag after my first pass through the fair, and it had gotten warm enough that I didn’t need the vest, so I left it behind, and! when I went past this particular table on the second pass and said, “Hello, again,” she said, “I thought you looked familiar, but you were wearing a leather coat before.”

I am presently making cornbread, because I’ve been wanting cornbread for months and I know better than store-bought, and as soon as that’s done, it will become part of my mid-day meal, which I’m suspecting will be leftover chili. The afternoon will be dedicated to writing, as I have, like, three scenes in my head that are clamoring for attention.

Saw my lovely neighbors outside when I came back, and had a chat. They’re having tree work done, and I told them the story of the four ghostly arborists, so they will be calling their arborist, with whom they have a long standing relationship, and adding my trees to the list, and have him come out to take a look. Then, they screwed down a warped board on my front steps and fixed the screen door.

I have The Best Neighbors.

And! The oven just beeped. Best get the cornbread in.

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I should also give an honorable mention to the person who — and her voice was not exactly steady when she said this, “Your jewelry is very pretty.” Also! Bruce? I think it was Bruce. Who delivered Vitamin Dog with Great Gusto.

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One thousand three hundred eleven new words. Give or take. At some point, I need to get with the master file and see where that gets us in a words-to-story kind of way.

Also read +/- 50 pages of page proofs for Diviner’s Bow mmp.

The cats are at Happy Hour and I am a tired woman. Going out, seeing the neighbors, and spending money is fun, but expensive of energy. Not to mention the other stuff.

Tomorrow, I resume the get up and get writin’ schedule.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Friday on the road

Friday. It’s an awfully nice day. Sunny and breezy. Warmer up inland where the Confusion Factory is located, than down Bath, where it was Right Cool at that nice little park of theirs. If I could snap my fingers and move this house as it is to Bath, I’d do that.

 

 

 

 

 

Yeah.

So, I saw my PCP, who’s looking well. I have my COVID shot, so that’s taken care of. I will also be traveling up and down Central and Coastal Maine for the next little bit — acupuncture at Rockport (not really acupuncture, but something to do with needles and reading nerve health and messaging); PT at Augusta; Audiology in this, mine own city. … I’m not sure where the bloodwork’s to be done. I’m hoping Thayer, but I need to check the portal.

We are in pursuit of a Better, Longer Term fix for the back, because it’s getting worse, and the poor chiropractor has worn out at least three hammers on me, to no real avail. He no sooner pronounces me Aligned, poor man, then my back goes out again for no reason, and I collapse to the floor, screaming. I mean, something’s not right when you hurt your back doing Tai Chi.

While in Bath, I went down to the park, obviously, and enjoyed a chocolate peppermint latte at Cafe Cream. It was wonderful, and now I’m sorry I didn’t allow myself a scone or a muffin, but! I found that just sitting in a busy cafe, sipping my latte and not doing much else, was … oddly restorative. I think it helped that everyone was having a reasonably good time; there were no angry voices, or people being nasty to the folks behind the counter, said folks being Genuinely Interested in you and your order (“Ooh, the Yorkie Latte? (this being the official blackboard name of my drink.) You’re gonna love that.” And she wasn’t wrong.)

After I drank my treat, I went across to Now Your Cooking and toured the premises. I bought a couple of gadgets — including a hook that will help me open pull-tab cans, which has become an issue — and a what ought to be a very nice red blend bottle of wine, which I plan on opening this evening, to reward myself for having gotten credibly through the morning.

The car’s GPS did this to me the last time I went to Bath, but I didn’t remember it soon enough to keep it from freaking me out. When you get off the expressway, there is Only One Way to merge with the state route. The GPS Strongly Disagrees with this, and starts screaming ROUTE RECALCULATING! ROUTE RECALCULATING! like a mad thing, and it really gets your heart racing. As I did the time before, I pulled off into the handy shopping center, whereupon the GPS recovered itself and agreed that I had been on the right road. Next time, I’m going to have to Steel Myself to ignore it.

On the way home, I stopped at the Harvest Moon Deli and bought way too much food — Tikka Marsala soup, which was good, and I ate it all; a roast beast of burden (they name their sandwiches after classic rock songs at the Harvest Moon) sandwich, which I ate a quarter of one half, the other 3/4s destined for the evening meal, and the remaining half either for tomorrow’s breakfast or lunch.

I still have paperwork sorting and portal-visiting to do relative to the medical part of the day, so that’s what I’ll be doing for the rest of the afternoon, with an eye toward hitting the writing space tomorrow and getting something useful done.

And how was your morning?

Before departure, Whatcha Doin’ Moms:

Saturday’s adventures

My goodness what a pleasant day.

The high point, of course, is that I quite by accident scored my ninth store on my Reny’s Passport and for this achievement I was awarded! a Reny’s candy bar of my choice (my choice being dark chocolate and seal salt), and a $10 Reny’s gift card. Only 10 more to do, but, honestly? I’m probably not going to make it.

The craft fair was a lovely thing, very small but high quality. I talked to people about glass making, and pottery, and jewelry, and writing, bought some handmade soap (peppermint and lemongrass, since you ask), and a pair of earrings made out of rutilated quartz, which NOBODY makes jewelry out of rutilated quartz and I adore the stuff, so there we are.

I spaced around Longfellow’s for quite some time and managed not to buy any plants, because then I would have to plant them, and then my back would go out, and I’d really rather not. It was hard turning down more lavender, though. Especially since it was on sale.

After I was done at the greenhouse and the fair, I went for a ride. Steve usually provided rides, but I made this one for myself and it was quite nice. I went through Readfield and Fayette, and Mount Vernon, eventually mooched over to Wilton, thence to Farmington, where I spent some time exploring The Center for Entrepreneurial Studies — apparently the successor to the new age shop that had been on the opposite corner forever, drove through Strong and New Vineyard (deciding against Rangeley or Kingfield), Madison, stopped for a slightly late lunch at Ken’s in Skowhegan, veered to Pittsfield, where I got my 9th Reny’s stamp, then came home through Canaan, and over East River Road, stopping at the Dairy Queen on the Fairfield side of town for a chocolate-and-vanilla (softserve) twist inna cup.

It was an eye-opener, my ride. So much stuff has changed since the last time I’d been by certain places — which would be anywhere from two to five years ago — but, in all, a nice day, a nice ride, some good conversations and now I’m in for a few days, though I may venture out again next Saturday, to the Rock Show in Augusta.

The coon cats are after Happy Hour, and honestly? I could use a glass of wine my own self, so I think we’ll be moving in that direction.

What did y’all do today?

Out-and-about Day

What went before:  So, back from needlework, where a good time was had.

Tomorrow, I have that 1:30 appointment in Augusta and I also have errands to run. I may just run the errands in the morning, before speeding off to Augusta, and get with the manuscript when I come home. Thursday morning I have, thank ghod, an appointment to get my hair cut; after that, I am Unscheduled until next Tuesday.

Right now, I need to wash a few dishes, find something to eat, then read for a bit — Stone and Sky, in case anybody’s wondering. I’m hoping for another good night’s sleep, ’cause I’m walking the crinkly edge of Very Tired. Also, I have two coon cats on my lap, helping me write this.

Tali would like you to know that her kid brother is a rat. Trooper would like you to know that he ate two envelopes of gravy and half a can of cat food today, and now wants to see what on earth that Peter fellow is about. Honestly, you can’t leave that man alone for a minute.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow.

Wednesday. Sunny and heading for hot. AQI is in the 90s.

Breakfast was half a blueberry muffin and cottage cheese. Lunch will, I suspect, be taken in several parts.

Trooper has had his gravy-with-meds, and a few mouthfuls of regular gooshy food.

My tasks today are errands in-town, and a medical appointment out of town. I guess I’ll finish off the day by cleaning the bathroom and running a vacuum or two.

I had another good night’s sleep — three in a row — with very busy dreams.

Other than that — and aside a mad case of the Zooms afflicting Rook, who passed it to Tali, who tried to pass it to Firefly, who bonked her in the head, thus releasing the Zoomfairy to other business — there’s really nothing more to report.

How’re y’all doing this morning?

Like a small earthquake

What went before: So, everything except the writing corner is more or less good to go. I have one more bill to pay, and the afterword to write. Afterword may not happen today, but that’s OK. I know what I want to say, and by definition, it’s not a long piece.

It’s in my mind to take tomorrow off, really, and go down to Rockland to the Farnsworth Museum (which for some reason, I thought was open year-round, but it closes for the season at the end of September?). This will get me (1) a ride (2) salt air (3) art (4) if I play my cards right, breakfast or lunch (or both?) out. All of those things are wins and are known Soothers of Frazzled Writers Surnamed Lee Who Reside at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.

This will mean I can sit down and start reacquainting myself with the WIP (again) on Wednesday. I do have some minor commitments, but nothing Epic, like, say, driving to Baltimore or proofing a novel, on the calendar until, oh, Albacon, where I have volunteered to be a Zoom panelist, and to do a reading.

I can feel my blood pressure dropping already.

So, that’s the plan, insofar &c. Happy Hour is coming up in an hour or so, and that will be tools down for me as well.

Everybody have a good evening. Stay safe. I’ll check in tomorrow as can.

Tuesday: So, a nice day was had by … me, actually. As it happens, I didn’t eat out at all — breakfasted at home so Trooper was sure to get his morning meds, and second breakfast. Then, I had half a quiche in the fridge, so I just took a piece with me for lunch, which turned out to be a GOOD idea because I found a place at a park adjacent to the public dock, which is where Steve and I usually stopped in Rockland, and ate my lunch to a new-to-me view of the harbor, in the sunshine, and I need to get better about remembering to wear a hat. But!

The Farnsworth Museum is a very nice museum spread over three buildings and some storefronts on Main Street. I wandered the museum, then Main Street, bought cookies at the Atlantic Bakery, since I am tragically out of cookies at home (I also need to make my own cookies; it’s not like it’s hard), and ate my lunch as reported.

Then, I went to Camden and got my passport stamped at Reny’s.

It was a day of meeting old friends, the first of which — I’ve been listening to the 60s station on Sirius XM, and I hate to tell you how many of those songs I know the words to. Add these to the songs at play from Classics Vinyl and Rewind, and I could probably do Great Things with my brain, if it wasn’t stuffed full of song lyrics.

But, anyway — on the way over to Rockland, I heard a song I haven’t thought of for … ever — Neil Diamond’s “Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show,” which, yes, I knew all the words, OK? — and I can’t tell you how fond I used to be of the Brother’s little sermon, which was produced before people stopped believing that kind of thing.

Inside the museum, met a painting of Marshall Point Light — and yes, I did embarrass myself by saying aloud, “Marshall Point Light!” — and then embarrassed myself again by laughing out loud — there’s a full-sized Langlais camel in the museum garden. I had just recently seen a much smaller one at the Langlais Exhibit in Waterville — and I didn’t know they came in sizes!

I also listened, and watched an illustration being painted, to the story about how Glooskap (Klooskap) invented the arrow, and Mount Kineo of the most perfect stone for arrowheads, which all the Abenaki people knew (this last part is true. It’s well to question Glooskap closely on these matters.), and watched a demonstration of arrowhead napping. This was a video in the Abenaki Room, and well worth the watching.

So, anyhoots, home again, where I fed Trooper some gooshy food and myself some ice cream from home stores (Gifford’s Black Raspberry Chocolate Chip). I debated going to needlework tonight, but I think I’ll rest at home, by which I mean check what I’ve printed out of the WIP and if it is, indeed, the Most Current or if I need to print a new edition to read.

So! How was your day?

Today’s blog post title from, what else? Neil Diamond, “Brother Love’s Travelin’ Salvation Show”

Photos on the day:  The view at lunch; camel, large and small; Marshall Point Light.  Oh, and the morning rose bush.

First Friday and Saturday, too

What went before: So, it turns out there’s a Method to First Friday. It’s advertised as “from” 5 (or 5:30; advertising is a little squishy on this point) to 7:30. What that means is that, some bands will be starting to set up around 5:00 and the restaurants will be open, so you should go have something to eat, nice glass of wine, and then, eh, 6/6:30ish, you perambulate around downtown, and then, around 7, you wander down to Head of Falls, where the music will be happening. Music starts at 7:30 and goes to 9/9:30.

Obviously, I did not make it that far, which is too bad because the band was the Atlanta Rhythm Section, which wouldn’t have been terrible to listen to. There’s a beer garden set up at Head of Falls for the concert and a food truck from The Proper Pig. And I kinda didn’t want to be one old woman in a crowd of folks some of whom had had too much beer.

I did revisit the Langlais exhibit and took in the Dark Was the Night and Bright Were the Stars exhibit. I stopped by the reception — yes, there were cookies and also fruits and cheese and crackers.

I meandered around downtown, and I found out that there’s a rock store. Yes, a rock store; it’s been there about three months, I’m told. I of course bought a rock (yeah, I know, but, hey! It’s flourite, which is an amusing rock, in that it flouresces). I also stopped in Old Soul Supply, Oliver and Friends Bookstore, and Holy Cannoli, where I listened to a folk group for a couple of songs before I moved on, hoping for music in the Green Block, but — not yet. So, I came home, educated and more or less relaxed for having done something different with my afternoon and early evening.

I have about 15 more pages of I Dare to finish proofing — which I’ll do tomorrow.

For now, the cats have had Happy Hour and I’m going to go pour myself a glass out of the Nice Bottle I opened last night to share with Steve.

And that’s the First Friday Report.

Intermission: Oooh, nice echo of the prologue: “I won’t hurt him.”

And my favorite bit in the whole book, though there are so many good bits:

“My lifemate and my oathsworn are blameless. I claim all.”

“Ever more terrifying,” Val Con returned, lightly, deliberately, in the Low Tongue. “Pray reveal at once the horrific crimes of which they are innocent.”

Saturday. Sunny and predicted to a nice-ish day.

Breakfast was toast and cottage cheese and grapes. Lunch will be something easy. I have choices, including a Door Dash account, if it comes down to desperation.

I did not sleep well last night; doubtless the late few days of High Living are catching up with me.

Today’s to-do list includes one’s duty to the cats, finishing the proofing of I Dare, swapping out cat fountains, and straightening up the house, which has become slightly shell-shocked, doubtless from the High Living referenced above. It’s possible that I’ll throw it all over and go back to bed, but not really likely.

My Solid Goal is to get back to the WIP — remember the WIP? — on Monday, so those things that must occur in service of that goal, including turning in the correx for I Dare, have to happen this weekend.

Arrived in yesterday’s mail is news that the Subaru is included in a class action suit referencing failures in the EyeSight Driver Assistance subroutine. The suit appears to focus on the braking protocols, of which I have no complaint. I had hoped that it would be something to address the Concerning Issue of Eyesight turning itself off in downpours where human eyes are basically useless, and the pilot could really use some help staying on the road and not running into the back of a semi. OTOH, I haven’t been to the website yet. That’s actually pretty far down on the list.

Also, just at a tangent — and I’ve made this argument before, so nothing new here — if you (universal you) break the law, you must pay the penalty for breaking the law. It does not matter who you are, who your dad is, what political affiliation you hold, if you have fifteen houses or live in a cardboard box in an alley. Break the law, pay the price. That’s, like, one of the foundations of our society: that money and influence do not alter the functioning of Law. This is why Justice is blind.

So, my second up of tea is gone, and I guess I’d better get to work.

Who’s doing something exciting today?