Not so much a post, more a sort of placeholder

Today I have to collect my vegetables, plan a few (consequent) meals, shop for (consequent) other groceries, pick up some prescriptions...

It's like that. Today I don't go to the library, I don't get that intensive couple of hours in the Silence Room to notch up the day's quota of words.

Today I have to sit and do it here, amid a world of distraction.

It's hard.

Someone remind me how I used to do this, again...?

More coffee! More chocolate!!

In which I am almost tempted...

I just found (to a chorus of "Chaz! You have a quota to fill! Google is not your friend!") this page, which offers to provide idle students with essays, term papers, book reports etc, in exchange for dollar fees.

Um, that's essays, term papers, book reports etc on me...

I'm almost tempted.

Grandville

I have a copy of this, and you don't.

I'm just sayin'.

But! You can pre-order it! At Amazon or elsewhere, as you see fit.

Be a shame not to, really. As it is a heartbreaking work of staggering genius (and I'm allowed to say that, because I didn't write it).

Not that kind of scaffold

Cheerful men are erecting scaffolding on the outside of my house. Personally I think this is overkill, as the work that needs doing could easily be done on ladders, but there are probably rules and such. Which were probably written by scaffolders, and might explain why they're so cheerful.

My house is a drum, constantly resonating as its skin is struck and struck and struck again. There are rumbles and clatters and thuds, and a terrible clangour of poles.

The boys are ... fascinated, and being Very Brave except when they're being scaredy-cats. They alternate; one sits in the window watching while the other runs away.

How can I do my exercises, with men at the upstairs windows watching me...?

ETA: I am of course now singing "Lily the Pink". Not that kind of Scaffold...