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Jan. 6th, 2006
Instead, closer to the world's end. At home. Who would have thought.
People are thiniking about beginning to gather for Tillie's birthday party right now. They're calling, starting to form up around their evening's stuff. I'm not entirely sure that I'm going. I'm still sick enough that I sit here, sweat, and just wanna be in bed with a book.
I've done all the stuff I needed to do here around the rats' final cleanup. The cage had been emptied, but now it's been bleached and re-furnished for the girlies who remain. I'm on the waiting list at www.ratanist.com and sort of thinking about the pair of 'Browncoats' (The Operative and Simon Tam, I didn't name them) if the gender thing can be resolved (I'm gathering information about neutering males) and/or waiting on a baby from each of the next two litters.
Notice that I type in larger blocks of text on a standard keyboard.
I have a bit of fish tank maintenance to do still, and it's time to think about packing. Plants are thirstily drinking as I speak, type--
--wow. So my keyboard just stopped working as I bumped something behind the computer. I look, the wires on both sides are steady, it's not that, it's--
Caramel had taken a bite out of the keyboard last time we played hide and seek. My b-rat left me a final thingy. I've just spliced the wire back together (five wires in a keyboard cable) in less than half an hour. This is one of the joys of boat- and then rat- ownership-- splicing the telephone wires on the boat when they corroded or stretched, and then the wires the rats have chewed through (f'rinstance on CrazyChris' laptop, sigh). It's definitely one of my weird skills, the kind of thing that, when people are roleplaying, everyone is all like where'd she get that skill? and your player says, from owning rats and living on boats and they're all like that's totally unthematic, no way. But, I digress. I miss Caramel.
My evening plans are solidifying as the phone keeps ringing. There will be a cameo party appearance, likely. As email pours in, next week is filling up (jeeze, is it ever. How does this work again? I sit here at home, and get busier?).
I will, shortly, go change my laundry and draw a pail of fish water.
I'm home. How odd.
People are thiniking about beginning to gather for Tillie's birthday party right now. They're calling, starting to form up around their evening's stuff. I'm not entirely sure that I'm going. I'm still sick enough that I sit here, sweat, and just wanna be in bed with a book.
I've done all the stuff I needed to do here around the rats' final cleanup. The cage had been emptied, but now it's been bleached and re-furnished for the girlies who remain. I'm on the waiting list at www.ratanist.com and sort of thinking about the pair of 'Browncoats' (The Operative and Simon Tam, I didn't name them) if the gender thing can be resolved (I'm gathering information about neutering males) and/or waiting on a baby from each of the next two litters.
Notice that I type in larger blocks of text on a standard keyboard.
I have a bit of fish tank maintenance to do still, and it's time to think about packing. Plants are thirstily drinking as I speak, type--
--wow. So my keyboard just stopped working as I bumped something behind the computer. I look, the wires on both sides are steady, it's not that, it's--
Caramel had taken a bite out of the keyboard last time we played hide and seek. My b-rat left me a final thingy. I've just spliced the wire back together (five wires in a keyboard cable) in less than half an hour. This is one of the joys of boat- and then rat- ownership-- splicing the telephone wires on the boat when they corroded or stretched, and then the wires the rats have chewed through (f'rinstance on CrazyChris' laptop, sigh). It's definitely one of my weird skills, the kind of thing that, when people are roleplaying, everyone is all like where'd she get that skill? and your player says, from owning rats and living on boats and they're all like that's totally unthematic, no way. But, I digress. I miss Caramel.
My evening plans are solidifying as the phone keeps ringing. There will be a cameo party appearance, likely. As email pours in, next week is filling up (jeeze, is it ever. How does this work again? I sit here at home, and get busier?).
I will, shortly, go change my laundry and draw a pail of fish water.
I'm home. How odd.