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Cocoon of Trill
Mar. 19th, 2020 10:18 pmI woke up too early, got up, and saw the sunrise--an ember-colored glow in the east. I was uncomfortable. I have those all-overish aches you get with a cold. But my temperature is still down in the lizard range where it usually is, so no worries. I irritably did nothing until the Sparrowhawk woke up, because I didn't want to wake him by banging things around in the kitchen. I did slightly less nothing today, overall. I cleaned up the kitchen, while grumbling, and gradually became less irritable. Cleaning things will do that. Then I mixed up the Irish soda bread that I didn't get around to on the 17th, whipped some cream for topping the Irish coffee, and cleaned up the new iteration of mess that I'd just created. The Sparrowhawk made grilled corned beef and Irish cheddar sandwiches for lunch, with Irish coffee, and we ate at the dining room table like civilized creatures. I didn't get out for a walk, because the edges of the storm brushed through and it rained.
Last night, we watched "Knives Out" on TV: trivial, entitled people behaving like assholes, thinking they owned everything and always would. It was a fairly clever Agatha Christie-ish mystery, not clever enough to fool us at all, but clever enough that we somewhat enjoyed figuring it out. Tonight we watched "Ford vs. Ferrari," a much, much better movie: bastards in suits screw everything up, while the people who really care risk their lives for the joy of the game. When I could no longer contain my outrage, I jumped up and stomped around, ranting. The Sparrowhawk is used to this. It just cut a little too close to home. I did get a little thrill at the line, "Welcome to Dearborn." My high school boyfriend was from Dearborn. His father was a Teamster and worked for "Ford's," as it is always called in Michigan, and my boyfriend had summer jobs on Zug Island. I spent many happy hours riding bicycles with him along the little trails by the River Rouge.
I don't consider this the first day of spring, because technically, the equinox doesn't happen for about an hour. To me, that makes tomorrow the first day.
Last night, we watched "Knives Out" on TV: trivial, entitled people behaving like assholes, thinking they owned everything and always would. It was a fairly clever Agatha Christie-ish mystery, not clever enough to fool us at all, but clever enough that we somewhat enjoyed figuring it out. Tonight we watched "Ford vs. Ferrari," a much, much better movie: bastards in suits screw everything up, while the people who really care risk their lives for the joy of the game. When I could no longer contain my outrage, I jumped up and stomped around, ranting. The Sparrowhawk is used to this. It just cut a little too close to home. I did get a little thrill at the line, "Welcome to Dearborn." My high school boyfriend was from Dearborn. His father was a Teamster and worked for "Ford's," as it is always called in Michigan, and my boyfriend had summer jobs on Zug Island. I spent many happy hours riding bicycles with him along the little trails by the River Rouge.
I don't consider this the first day of spring, because technically, the equinox doesn't happen for about an hour. To me, that makes tomorrow the first day.
