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Further evening householdings

Now that I actually have access to the phone reliably in the evenings, I do need to set up regular appointments for phone gigglefests with sionainn, so it's not quite so hit-and-miss. Yay for the internet!

Because I wanted to find something to eat, I gave the contents of the fridge your basic once-over and rearrangement/toss. Then, since I was on a roll, I went over the main portion of the living room. The Little Fayoumis had been submerged in the darkened West bedroom, with no signs of life, with his toys still strewn all over the floor. Up they were picked, and put high up for tomorrow's not-playing-with. Then I attacked the bad place under the good computer desk. The random newspaper strips in the paste bucket and the random newspapers disappeared. The random newsprint stayed; I think I'll see if there's a better place for it. The little blue stepstool is about to go, I think. I will review with the rest of the household the function of the cardboard box with all the foam padding in it. Then I moved the espresso machine off the high-use counter and elsewhere, to make room for the new mixer on loan from votania's mother. There are still two brown paper bags with random kitchen appliance parts in them, sitting by the Little Fayoumis's toy box, but it's much better than it was.

The Little Fayoumis and marxdarx emerged about then; they'd evidently been watching a movie. LF picked up his toys and put them away, and then they had ice cream. (Mmm.) I then discovered that the large bag of chicken bits that was thawing in the bottom of the refrigerator had started leaking. marxdarx assisted, and in a remarkably short time, we had everything cleaned up and squared away.

Happy household. Clean household. I need to light that candle more often.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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