In other news:
Nov. 1st, 2011 11:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceFruit flies like a hot toddy, and so do I. Mostly I like them made by the patented Brenchley Method, where you squeeze a chunk of lemon into a receptacle, add a squirt of honey, slosh in near-boiling water, top up with whisky, taste it - and then go around again, doubling all ingredients except the water. (At home I'd add a few drops of Angostura bitters, but I have none here.) (Geoff Ryman adds ground cumin, or used to twenty-odd years ago. I might try that again, see how I like it now that I'm nearly as old as he is.)
I am also very grateful to whoever it was who thought of putting really good honey into silly bear-shaped plastic squeezy bottles. So much easier than spooning the stuff.
I remember two dreams from last night: one where the boys were here (can I be missing the boys?) and they made an unauthorised escapade into the back yard and freedom - but they were good boys and came when they were called, which makes it a Good Dream; and one where self and friends-from-here were at a Chinese restaurant and one bottle of wine was never going to be enough but that was all we had and the food kept disappearing before I'd eaten any and then so did the guests and thus it was a Bad Dream, and I was glad to wake myself up. And then I was awake, pretty much, but I still let Karen get up and go off to work on her own, rather than rising before her and commuting with her. By definition, then, Not Well. Am trying to work, but it's all a little desultory. Darling du jour, so far: "I wasn’t doing myself any good, I knew that; this wasn’t an argument you could win by arguing."
Time for another hot toddy, I fancy. And I might just sit in the yard with a book for half an hour, catch the last of the sun. It's been quite breezy today - but, y'know. Warm and pleasant are the breezes. It's still sunshine and sandals weather, on the first of November.
I am also very grateful to whoever it was who thought of putting really good honey into silly bear-shaped plastic squeezy bottles. So much easier than spooning the stuff.
I remember two dreams from last night: one where the boys were here (can I be missing the boys?) and they made an unauthorised escapade into the back yard and freedom - but they were good boys and came when they were called, which makes it a Good Dream; and one where self and friends-from-here were at a Chinese restaurant and one bottle of wine was never going to be enough but that was all we had and the food kept disappearing before I'd eaten any and then so did the guests and thus it was a Bad Dream, and I was glad to wake myself up. And then I was awake, pretty much, but I still let Karen get up and go off to work on her own, rather than rising before her and commuting with her. By definition, then, Not Well. Am trying to work, but it's all a little desultory. Darling du jour, so far: "I wasn’t doing myself any good, I knew that; this wasn’t an argument you could win by arguing."
Time for another hot toddy, I fancy. And I might just sit in the yard with a book for half an hour, catch the last of the sun. It's been quite breezy today - but, y'know. Warm and pleasant are the breezes. It's still sunshine and sandals weather, on the first of November.