Katie has announced, after spending a weekend with Sapphire (born last August, and her equivalent-to-niece) that she has no intentions of going into the baby making business anytime soon. Tonstant Weaders of this blog will likely feel MUCH BETTER upon reading that. Not that Katie doesn’t LIKE babies, she just said it was exhausting. I forebore comment, can you credit it?
Paul appears to have located a 3 bedroom apartment close by the current house. We shall see if the landlord goes for the plus 1 cat situation. Seeing as how we don’t even have the house listed yet…. no, better not go there.
Work continues to be interesting, challenging, and suboptimal; I think my performance is suffering. See what happens when you get a bonus? There’s no point, really…..
Jeff comes tomorrow. I have to think of a good nickname for my brother, but my brain hurts right now so it will have to be later.
Keith took a tour of the David Lam campus for his Optician course. He says, “They remembered me!” as if this was a startling occurrence. Keith is pretty damned memorable, and I don’t just say that because I spawned him.
I would like to sing, shout, and rattle a sistrum for the sistahs! Catherine, Tammy and Sandy – thank you for the long and heartening conversations. I note with amusement verging on hysteria that Catherine, one of the most militant atheists evah, recently spent a day making Easter altar scarves. Yes, her mother roped her into it, and yes, she volunteered. But it’s a lot like finding out that Shostakovich keeps the dial on Rock 101.
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I rehung the Inuit hunters on the wall. Now that the walls are the right colour, they look like they were supposed to be there.
I looked out the window this morning and saw the pear tree starting to bloom and burst into tears because that’s the last time that will happen. It’s the little things that get you.
I slept 12 hours yesterday, but the allergy / cold thing is grimly clinging to my facial mucosa with the adamancy of one of the Old Ones denied a sacrifice…