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V's home!

Walked home from work, did some leisurely whirlwind tidying that had more to do with getting large objects out of the living room floor than it did to do with anything else, deployed the air mattress, then set off to pick up V. Flylady = lifesaving. Must make very very large links from Geek Housekeeping to Flylady, and add some tips on adapting the routines to Geek. (Some of the stuff is ... overly gendered ... especially for male/macho/engineering outlooks to domesticity, but the routines are only surface-gendered, while some of the people are very strongly personally gendered. If I ever get unionized and I start calling a mate of mine my "DH", somebody slap me. Please.)

I really could have taken 15 more minutes cleaning, because she was out a little later than I expected. She got to meet Gemini, we got dinner, and now she is horizontal on my living room floor.

Work remains uncannily early. Cheesecake remains uncannily in refrigerator, lurking in wait for me. (There's enough for both of us. Glee.)

I sleep now.
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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