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Bluebell of Flourish
Aug. 23rd, 2020 10:26 pmSome days I don't remember much of note. It was a pleasant, quiet Sunday spent with the Sparrowhawk. We've been having a lot of those lately. I made cinnamon rolls in the morning--but before you admire, know that they were the kind that come in a roll from the store. They were on sale for a dollar a roll, which makes five little buns. A dollar is about what they're worth, but the Sparrowhawk is not picky and enjoys a warm roll with his coffee, so not a bad deal. I watered all my plants, and dreamed idly about what I'd like to do with my yard if I ever buckled down to it. Pearly Gates offered one more flower.
I feel that when it's in the 80s, I can't really say that it's hot! It is so much worse elsewhere. Anyway, it became overcast in mid-afternoon as a thunderstorm passed over north of us, and sent a breath of coolness our way. There was no actual rain, just a very brief pattering of droplets that didn't even penetrate the leaves overhead. It was pleasant enough that we sat out in the back yard with our cups of tea. For dinner, I made another batch of tomato salad, and the Sparrowhawk steamed some broccoli and the rest of the corn from the farm stand up north, and we had some of the five-dollar chicken. I did some laundry and put away some laundry. I had a very nice Zoom chat with Moonmoth and the Nonesuch. We agreed that we would all like to be reading more, but we seem to have various impediments. You'd think that in a time of sitting around the house a lot, MOAR BOOKS would be the obvious response, but somehow this time has induced a lack of focus. Or something. I resolve to change that this week! Who knows if I will succeed, but why not boldly declare my intentions . . . it's not as if anyone will notice if I don't.
I feel that when it's in the 80s, I can't really say that it's hot! It is so much worse elsewhere. Anyway, it became overcast in mid-afternoon as a thunderstorm passed over north of us, and sent a breath of coolness our way. There was no actual rain, just a very brief pattering of droplets that didn't even penetrate the leaves overhead. It was pleasant enough that we sat out in the back yard with our cups of tea. For dinner, I made another batch of tomato salad, and the Sparrowhawk steamed some broccoli and the rest of the corn from the farm stand up north, and we had some of the five-dollar chicken. I did some laundry and put away some laundry. I had a very nice Zoom chat with Moonmoth and the Nonesuch. We agreed that we would all like to be reading more, but we seem to have various impediments. You'd think that in a time of sitting around the house a lot, MOAR BOOKS would be the obvious response, but somehow this time has induced a lack of focus. Or something. I resolve to change that this week! Who knows if I will succeed, but why not boldly declare my intentions . . . it's not as if anyone will notice if I don't.
