Two days.

Until Thanksgiving. I have mostly gotten it together, at least in terms of the menu and book shelving. The heavy cleaning is the husbeast's job and I'm leaving him to it. I should, at this very moment, be getting ready to hit the grocery store (taming the hair will take at least ten minutes, itself, and probably involve throwing out my shoulder while trying to brush it), but instead I'm writing a blog post.

We've had YET ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKING WEATHER CHANGE DAMN IT, so I'm back on migraine medication. For. The. Birds.


Anyway. Happier news. I've got the neck steeked on the Russian Prime and if I could sit down for ten minutes at a time without thinking of something to clean or put away, I'd get to the shoulders lickety-split and bind 'em off. I would LIKE to have this done for when we go to Florida at the end of December, but I am not going to kill myself over it. Those days are over. I think (hope) I have learned my lesson.


The Goober has been hell on wheels the last couple days. She's got a cold and generally feels like crap. But she had a good nap. How can I tell she had a good nap? This happens:



Please note the curls flopping around on her head. I just stood there laughing at her for quite a while before I thought to get the camera.

Then she went out to the living room and put the drum on her head again.

She's gonna have such fun.