To quote t!: “I’m… dreaming… of a white… Victoria Day Weekend…”

This post-Easter snowstorm made my commute home absolute misery, starting with the hour and ten minutes I stood outside waiting for a lift that only arrived (of course) after I resorted to public transit. While I was cold and wet and miserable, the worst thing was not knowing where HRH and Liam were and if they were okay. Both parties got home within five minutes of one another, and Liam was surprisingly not insane from being cooped up for two and a half hours in the car. He even ate some dinner before bed. HRH was mildly spare, however, and I was completely unhinged of course, imagining horrible things. This weekend, I am buying HRH a cellular phone.

Work proceeds apace. True to Meallanmouse‘s prediction today, I was asked how much longer I thought the project would take me should my contract be extended. As I’ve already been separately spoken to by the two heads who hired me about the near certainty of said extension, we shall see what happens tomorrow. Apparently it would be all right if I worked at home two days a week, which makes life much easier because HRH is working out on the West Island Mondays and Tuesdays, and needs to be on-site by the time Liam’s caregiver opens shop, as well as requiring the car to get there (otherwise it’s something like a two-hour commute). This way I can drop HRH off, then Liam, come home and work, then pick them up. If I had to go in to work on-site I’d lose an hour and a half of work time, assuming I took the car. Working at home on those two days is simply more efficient.

I learn at least one new word a day on this project. And it turns out I have been misusing “pursuant” all these years.

On today’s lunch adventure, Mellanmouse introduced me to the best fries I’ve had since the Frite Pit changed ownership over twenty years ago. Yesterday, it was an awesome Greek pita in the company of HRH and Fearsclave. Who knows what tomorrow will be?

I read A Long Shadow earlier this week, and am now over halfway through Princesses: The Six Daughters of George III (astute and obsessive readers may remember this as one of the topics that popped into my brain last fall and began scratching at the windows, whining for attention, pining to be a YA historical).

There is more; I keep a scratch pad with ideas that occur to me as the day goes along, but I’m really tired and still cold from the damp, no matter how many socks and sweaters I put on. To bed.