Well, I am doing mostly partly okay. Mostly Partly was an in joke for Larry and I after watching an English dubbed Japanese weather report where the pretty young woman told us the peninsula was going to be "mostly partly cloudy" for the weekend.
Fire Tribe continues to go well, people are kind and caring. I got cracked good on the top of the skull when a fire sword (unlit) flew out of 3's hand and the counter-weighted handle knob thunked me solidly as I was bending over. Down I went. Ouch.
Made fudge. Everyone in Tribe loved my fudge, it is spectacular. I have a ton of fudge making supplies, as Larry had stocked up for the winter season during the summer sales. I do not cry into the fudge, it isn't sanitary.
A sunny day means I went out and swept the leaves up off the patio. They had been bugging me, and I know Larry would disapprove. The garage and patio roofs are filled with mucky leaves, those need to come off. They decompose and make shingle and tar paper destroying mud.
Painting a little. That's good. Need to vacuum. Yuck. I chip away at chores. The need to keep up and win Larry's approval, or the memory of approval, keeping up my end of the partnership, has declined. I still want a clean comfy home, and it is neither right now.
A group I am in has daily sharing posts, usually photo based. Today was "what's in your fridge". Someone spotted my jars and asked if that were homemade jam. No, one is the old cranberry sauce I made which was in the freezer in the basement, and one the blueberry sauce I had just made. Larry made jam, wonderful raspberry jam from the berries on our canes. He didn't make any this year, of course, although we had stocked up on jars and pectin in the spring. I make great sauces and chutneys, but have always failed at jam. I suppose it is time to learn to make jam. I will not cry into the jam either. But I might weep a little over my breakfast toast next autumn.
Fire Tribe continues to go well, people are kind and caring. I got cracked good on the top of the skull when a fire sword (unlit) flew out of 3's hand and the counter-weighted handle knob thunked me solidly as I was bending over. Down I went. Ouch.
Made fudge. Everyone in Tribe loved my fudge, it is spectacular. I have a ton of fudge making supplies, as Larry had stocked up for the winter season during the summer sales. I do not cry into the fudge, it isn't sanitary.
A sunny day means I went out and swept the leaves up off the patio. They had been bugging me, and I know Larry would disapprove. The garage and patio roofs are filled with mucky leaves, those need to come off. They decompose and make shingle and tar paper destroying mud.
Painting a little. That's good. Need to vacuum. Yuck. I chip away at chores. The need to keep up and win Larry's approval, or the memory of approval, keeping up my end of the partnership, has declined. I still want a clean comfy home, and it is neither right now.
A group I am in has daily sharing posts, usually photo based. Today was "what's in your fridge". Someone spotted my jars and asked if that were homemade jam. No, one is the old cranberry sauce I made which was in the freezer in the basement, and one the blueberry sauce I had just made. Larry made jam, wonderful raspberry jam from the berries on our canes. He didn't make any this year, of course, although we had stocked up on jars and pectin in the spring. I make great sauces and chutneys, but have always failed at jam. I suppose it is time to learn to make jam. I will not cry into the jam either. But I might weep a little over my breakfast toast next autumn.
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