Does anyone have a copy of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos that they would be willing to lend me for a short while?
So very, very tired. Yes, it’s my default setting these days. That doesn’t make it any easier.
This morning I found some artificial flowers left over from a craft project a few years ago, twisted them into a bunch and tied odds and ends of ribbons around them, then hung them on the front door. Spring will be here tomorrow night, and I’ll be damned if I let the piles of snow continue to depress me.
We bought a new 18-gallon recycling bin yesterday, to complement our regular size bin. The new one is already full. (My life is exciting, is it not?)
Saturday night we had people over to celebrate Tal‘s birthday, and it was interesting to see that while we’d stated a late-afternoon start time to accomodate those with families and later engagements (of which we knew there were many), a surprising number of people not in those categories came earlier than we’d expected too. It was terrific to see so many friends again, most of whom I hadn’t seen in ages. Apart from the unexpected lack of birthday candles (later I remembered that I’d brought them to my mother in law for a party last year) the cake recipe I tried for the first time flew impressively well, although I somehow managed to unintentionally get all the way from one to ten o’clock without having a meal. I think all I consumed were two cups of tea and a bite of a bar cookie, until most of the guests had left and I made myself a sandwich. (That may have had something to do with the amount of desserts people brought to the potluck — holy cats!) I was very impressed by Liam, who went to bed only a bit later than usual and slept through the last four or five hours of the party. While HRH was reading to Liam in his room we sang Happy Birthday to Tal; the boy looked up and listened to the song, then applauded when everyone else did and said “Yay!” before going back to his book.
Today: more work, more outlining, more brainstorming, some research. The kind of thing that I know theoretically qualifies as work, but doesn’t feel as satisfying or as if it really counts as accomplishment because there aren’t words on a page. It’s been a while since I brainstormed random ideas for stories. It’s both more and less work than I remember it being. Sure, now I have a list of ideas, but no details spring to mind for any of them. Details used to pour into my brain faster than I could note them down. And the end of the Pandora book is going very slowly indeed.