Zombie walk this aft. Katie K and I will meetup at the Art Gallery and drag our shambling carcasses down the parade route. I can haz corn syrup and food colouring, and clothes to sacrifice. Oh yes, there will be pix.
Church meeting earlier this afternoon. I’m an invited guest rather than a regularly scheduled attendee; I suspect I am the Katelijne Adorne of my crowd, and happy I am that there is precisely one reader of this blog who will get the reference.
Leo is whomping up Finnish pancakes in the kitchen. Lawsy me, and there’s BACOM tooooo. Linda indulged me by watching the most recent Futurama episode with us last night, of which much internet woo, and I have to say “The Prisoner of Benda” is one of the best episodes ever and it’s FULL OF MATH.
Tomorrow, hymn sing at Tom and Peggy’s (ever so much more fun than it sounds, my irreligious pals). I’m thinking about going into work and doing some documentation, but I bet I turn lazy and stay home and watch depressing movies instead. Leo and Linda will head out sometime Sunday.
It is my sad duty to report that Katie and Daxus are dating again. Hence the title of the post. I am keeping my mouth shut (apart from giving Suzanne and my mother a heads’ up, and Paul and I had a brief and eyerolling confab yesterday) and hoping that a cooler head prevails. It’s too bad that her staying away from him was a condition of tenancy. As of the end of this month she’s homeless – you read me? – and only Paul is prepared to take her in, as Jeff and I -after a brief and dispassionate strategy session – do not wish to borrow more grief than is already our portion.
Did I say recently how much I love and appreciate Jeff? He really is Made of Awesome.
The quinoa is as tall as me and four cobs of corn have set on. I let the peas go to seed.