Back to the Grind

Morning comes way too early.

I had a dream last night about a freak September snowstorm. Six inches of snowfall. Delays and cancellations on the radio.

Then my alarm went off. Needless to say, there was no snow on the ground in the real world.

It all would probably have been marginally less painful (but only marginally) if the power had not gone out at 9:30 last night, only to return at 11:30. I had been partially clever and made sure lights were turned off so that they wouldn't all come back on in the middle of the night, but the pump on the 30-gallon aquarium was really loud until it managed to re-prime itself.

The sewing room improvements are mostly done. I still need to do some touchup work around the mopboards and get the last little bit of carpet out of the closet before I can start moving the furniture back in.

It's ... very pink. The colour has darkened up nicely to a crushed raspberry shade. When we were first applying it, it had a bubble-gum quality which was alarming, but fortunately it seems to have matured past that. I think I like it. Not that it would matter if I didn't; the Viking is not interested in redoing it anytime soon, and I can't blame him. I'm not interested in redoing it anytime soon either.

We took some time out yesterday to go slumming at the Renaissance Festival. As we pulled in, the Viking reminded me that it would all be more pleasant if we looked at it as a fantasy convention (which is true) -- and then he made the first clothing snark, before we even got out of the car. I was amused. But then, I was also amused by the number of women who appeared to have been assaulted by chickens. What was with the coronae of Buff Leghorn tailfeathers?

Two classes down -- only the freshpeople left to go for today. And there goes the bell for second lunch. Thank God for the Danskos.

verso - recto