Slip-slidin' away...
Jan. 2nd, 2012 08:04 pmGods, but it was cold in N'cle today. Maybe that's just contrast, because I've been wandering about in T-shirts in the balmy south - but ooh. Bitter. I had to turn the heating up and run the gas fire too (tho' that might have been mind-manipulation by certain furry persons, who do like a fire to bask in front of).
In related news, I fell over. On a stretch of road that wasn't noticeably icy, though I think it must've been; certainly there was lots of ice elsewhere. But I didn't spot it, and I came a classic cropper. Ouch. I do ordinarily budget to fall over every winter, because I have crap balance and no grip in my boot-soles, but I hate when it takes me by surprise. I think I'd rather be in California, where I don't suppose there's still frost on the pavement at four in the afternoon.
What else? I am home, where I don't really want to be, but hey. I have been all over everywhere, on all the trains and buses and in cars. My mother has shrunk, my nephew and niece have grown: there has been a redistribution of matter, clearly, within the clan. It's very odd.
I should have been working on the train home, but instead I just read The Emperor's Spy by M C Scott, who is my friend Manda of that ilk, and the book is of course extraordinary.
And I should've been working once I got home, but instead I watched The Slipper and the Rose and picked my way through a boxful of papers and assorted junk. A little to keep, a little more to shred, a lot to recycle or chuck. One box down, I know not how many to go. Let's call that progress, and move on.
I tried to amuse myself just now with a TV quiz, but honestly. It was a foodie quiz, so I maybe had a head start; and I tend to be good at quizzes anyway, so long as I'm not playing under pressure; but honestly. I do not quite believe in six foodies who could identify neither a chocolate pot nor a marrow spoon. Grr. I was bored, and frustrate.
Karen should be landing within the next hour. On another continent already. Le sigh.
In related news, I fell over. On a stretch of road that wasn't noticeably icy, though I think it must've been; certainly there was lots of ice elsewhere. But I didn't spot it, and I came a classic cropper. Ouch. I do ordinarily budget to fall over every winter, because I have crap balance and no grip in my boot-soles, but I hate when it takes me by surprise. I think I'd rather be in California, where I don't suppose there's still frost on the pavement at four in the afternoon.
What else? I am home, where I don't really want to be, but hey. I have been all over everywhere, on all the trains and buses and in cars. My mother has shrunk, my nephew and niece have grown: there has been a redistribution of matter, clearly, within the clan. It's very odd.
I should have been working on the train home, but instead I just read The Emperor's Spy by M C Scott, who is my friend Manda of that ilk, and the book is of course extraordinary.
And I should've been working once I got home, but instead I watched The Slipper and the Rose and picked my way through a boxful of papers and assorted junk. A little to keep, a little more to shred, a lot to recycle or chuck. One box down, I know not how many to go. Let's call that progress, and move on.
I tried to amuse myself just now with a TV quiz, but honestly. It was a foodie quiz, so I maybe had a head start; and I tend to be good at quizzes anyway, so long as I'm not playing under pressure; but honestly. I do not quite believe in six foodies who could identify neither a chocolate pot nor a marrow spoon. Grr. I was bored, and frustrate.
Karen should be landing within the next hour. On another continent already. Le sigh.