Stonefly of Flourish

The weather has taken a turn for the more pleasant. We were able to open the windows last night. Of course, the skunk came out, which wasn't very nice, but the Sparrowhawk can't smell him anyway. I still didn't sleep very well. I was too busy. I had to drive a cranky rich person to Cape Cod, in the dark, and I had to drive backwards because I was on a one-lane road and someone was coming the other way. Then I was sous-chef for the Diva, who was auditioning to be the chef at a Mexican restaurant. She made some delicious-looking things. While I don't know if a salad that had tomato and avocado plus chunks of different kinds of melons would be good in real life, it looked so gorgeous, and the spices in the honey and lemon dressing smelled so good. I was doing taco fillings under her direction. I'd prepared some ground beef with peppers, and I was shredding up the meat for tacos al pastor. We were trying to make sopapillas for dessert, but we were running out of time and getting desperate. The kitchen was chaos. I think I've been watching too many cooking shows.

The downside to the weather change is that it's making all my joints hurt, including my fingers, which is weird. Little tasks like peeling an orange become a series of tiny ouchies. I did the grocery shopping, did laundry, put away laundry. I did not go for a walk, because I got distracted by looking through old files for a couple of pieces of writing I had been afraid I lost. Huzzah, I found the original hard copy, so now I can type it up and keep it in the cloud as well. I got lost in looking at old things, and when I looked up, the sun was already going down. There's an ominous metaphor for you--if you really needed another one. I edited another chapter or two. Encountering again this person I apparently used to be is hard in many ways. I think she was expecting a different future.