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lblanchardOne of these days someone is going to smack me upside the head for having all this free time because I didn't replace the Civil War client and gloating about it, but in the meantime I am pretty happy about it. I can always say I'm semi-retired, right? After all, I'm 64....
I should be able to get in some bike riding today. It's supposed to stay sunny right through the evening. I worked pretty hard this morning and my "absolutely must do" work-work is done, so I can slack off and do things for the house if I want. Roy isn't due home till 9:00 and I still have the dregs of the Sunday roast to chop into cubes and mix with my rice blend, plus two fat eggplants, chunked, that I cooked until they lost their structural integrity, along with three peppers, two big onions, and a big can of whole tomatoes (and marjoram, oregano, and sriracha).
So. Eight hours stretch out in front of me. Watch me fill them as fast as you can say chore list:
That's not so bad, although I regard messing about with blocking wires as something right up there with getting my teeth cleaned. I find that many things are worse in the anticipation than the doing, but this isn't one of them. [EDIT: I blocked that sucker. It was less in the doing than the anticipation, meaning it didn't take as long as I remembered, but it was miserable work and made my back and knees hurt.]
O happy thought! I can wring out the wet blanket with a towel that I can then throw in the drier with the dry laundry and cycle again, steaming (one hopes) the wrinkles away.
Add some time for callus maintenance and my deep desire for a late afternoon / early evening bike ride that winds up at the Art Museum when they start the light show (which I will resolutely NOT photograph tonight), and that about sucks the air out of my day. Especially if work rears its ugly head with some must-do that I have not anticipated.
I had trouble sleeping last night. Possibly because I listened to my new Tommy Emmanuel smooth jazz album instead of my tried-and-true playlist of soothing stuff. Possibly because I'd overdosed on the Maya this week and, face it, they were bloody-minded people.
To finish off today's post, here are two charming-verging-on-bizarre YouTube videos of a Korean girl rocking out to Tommy Emmanuel on her gayageum (like the Japanese koto only different):
I should be able to get in some bike riding today. It's supposed to stay sunny right through the evening. I worked pretty hard this morning and my "absolutely must do" work-work is done, so I can slack off and do things for the house if I want. Roy isn't due home till 9:00 and I still have the dregs of the Sunday roast to chop into cubes and mix with my rice blend, plus two fat eggplants, chunked, that I cooked until they lost their structural integrity, along with three peppers, two big onions, and a big can of whole tomatoes (and marjoram, oregano, and sriracha).
So. Eight hours stretch out in front of me. Watch me fill them as fast as you can say chore list:
- My former next door neighbor had her baby girl on Monday and I still haven't blocked the baby blanket. [EDIT: Done.] Also, I have no yarn in stock to start a new one to have stockpiled for the next pregnancy that crosses my path.
- I have a load of laundry that has been festering in the dryer (dried, thankfully) since Sunday, so any wrinkles are well and truly set in my cotton sheets. [EDIT: Rerunning with the addition of a sopping wet towel]
- I have another load of sheets and filthy bar rags to be zapped with bleach and laundered. [EDIT: In process.]
- I am by nature untidy, whereas Roy by nature is not, so I need to wander about the house and remove some of my drippings.[EDIT: Largely done]
- I need to assemble said leftover-pork-roast thing. [EDIT: done]
That's not so bad, although I regard messing about with blocking wires as something right up there with getting my teeth cleaned. I find that many things are worse in the anticipation than the doing, but this isn't one of them. [EDIT: I blocked that sucker. It was less in the doing than the anticipation, meaning it didn't take as long as I remembered, but it was miserable work and made my back and knees hurt.]
O happy thought! I can wring out the wet blanket with a towel that I can then throw in the drier with the dry laundry and cycle again, steaming (one hopes) the wrinkles away.
Add some time for callus maintenance and my deep desire for a late afternoon / early evening bike ride that winds up at the Art Museum when they start the light show (which I will resolutely NOT photograph tonight), and that about sucks the air out of my day. Especially if work rears its ugly head with some must-do that I have not anticipated.
I had trouble sleeping last night. Possibly because I listened to my new Tommy Emmanuel smooth jazz album instead of my tried-and-true playlist of soothing stuff. Possibly because I'd overdosed on the Maya this week and, face it, they were bloody-minded people.
To finish off today's post, here are two charming-verging-on-bizarre YouTube videos of a Korean girl rocking out to Tommy Emmanuel on her gayageum (like the Japanese koto only different):
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Date: 2012-10-05 08:57 pm (UTC):)
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Date: 2012-10-05 09:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-05 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-05 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-08 01:41 pm (UTC)That's apparently what they're called. Not a pure chromatic scale -- each finger frets the next fret down on a particular string, starting with #6 and ending at #1 and returning, then moving the whole mess up the fretboard one fret.
It's done with a flatpick, which is pure torture for me, but hey I may need to use one some day. Here's a YouTube video.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u-3utu2C584