I started up the pie stuff in the kitchen, and it looked interesting enough that Little Fayoumis asked to help me. He stirred pie dough for a bit, and then rolled some out while I cooked the filling.
He was delighted with pie dough scraps, and found them delicious. "I'm delicious!" he kept saying, and I finally clarified to him that if he meant that the pie dough tasted good, he should say, "This is delicious" instead.
He tried to help me cut stuff up. He filled one pie for me, and then got bored.
Fun was had by all, though.
"He is the exit condition in my infinite loop."
Am hiding from the sun more often. Usual uniform is now socks, long pants, long shirt, hat. I find myself scrunching my fingers up into my sleeves. I think I'm cultivating the geek-chic pallor, working on my CRT tan. [Yes, I use a laptop. No, it does not have a CRT.]
Went and got milk and bread. Looked for cherries, but there were none. Pity. Little Fayoumis likes them too. The other morning when I went out and got cherries, I saw something black and flapping, like a big drunken butterfly. That may have been my first bat sighting. If so, it was coming home late from the bar or something.
Suspect I wish to go to the bank today, sometime after I've zoomed around the house like a large black something that zooms. Also, a trip to the library might be in order. We'll see if I have enough energy for little monsters as well.
It frustrates me that it is difficult to find a Presidential candidate with the right mix of political hot-buttons to match mine.
For the love of gods, why is the usual liberal combo pro-choice/anti-gun? WHY??
(No, I don't exactly know what that's supposed to mean either. Call it brain damage from the preservatives.)
Little Fayoumis's little friends showed up at door, with grandma-person in tow, asking about playing today. I said maybe in the afternoon.
Right now, we're about to be off for the bank and library, after everybody gets done with lunchlike substances.
Laid a temporary smackdown on the evil plastics cupboard. Floor was swept earlier. Cut up and washed lettuce and put it in a thing in the fridge. Got a few more of the things tidied on the north counterspace.
Little Fayoumis has had his TV in the morning, and his 20 minutes game. His friends stopped by, but left when he was getting a little too demanding. (He'll figure it out.)
Am plotting something or other with those last strips of barbecue beef.
Somehow, the roof of my mouth wound up getting bruised.
This is not cool at all.
I have, within easy reach, five books.
One of them , To Say Nothing of the Dog, I have read before. It is a library book. (And I must must must get my hands on my own copy of Jerome K. Jerome's Three Men in a Boat...)
The next one is Dragons of Autumn Twilight, Weis and Hickman.
Then there are two Lackeys: Serpent's Shadow and The Gates of Sleep.
Those are all the library books.
Hanging from my door, untouched in its bag, is Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
What am I doing?
I'm reading the library books first.
Because I have to take them back.
Anything of the form email@example.com is just idiotic.