Bone weary and bored, too.

Oh, so not a good combo.

After another excellent sleep, I woke up and finished off my cereal. Okay, so one box of this brand will last me 10 days. I guess that's not so bad.

After brekkie, I finally, finally, finally tackled my laundry. Three loads which is a lot when you consider I only go out twice a week. But, yes, a plenitude of long satin nighties. I was so relieved when I was finished. Lunch was a toasted bagel (because John had just used it) with sliced cheese (and he offered me the leftovers of his chickpeas, pasta and sauteed garlic to which I added Italian spray dressing).

I tried to have a nap in the afternoon, but it wasn't meant to be. After receiving an e-mail from the church, I asked John if he'd like to accompany me to the cat show at the ex, as the church had obtained free passes for its volunteers. The last time I'd gone was 3-4 years ago; I figure I'll be better off to see the adorable darlings using my glasses and monocular.

I barely averted gastric distress by following my dinner of mixed beans and raw sliced onion with a chaser of two Gravol. So far, no upset. If it's not too horrid out tomorrow, I may actually venture out to buy fresh food. All I have left is a few sorrier-by-the-day pickling cukes.

Anyway, as my fingers hurt so much (because of my industriousness) and I'm too bored (and can't see well enough in the evening) to reach into the china cabinet for a book, I'm pouting and stomping off (yes, in my soft slippers) to bed. Nighty-night, all.

Oh, before I forget, another reason to pout: last night, somewhere between 3-4 a.m., there was - supposedly - the Perseids shower. And, once again, I so miss being out on a Muskoka lake (44 years ago was the last time) in a boat in the middle of the night. Le sigh.

Bone weary and bored, too.

Oh, so not a good combo.

After another excellent sleep, I woke up and finished off my cereal. Okay, so one box of this brand will last me 10 days. I guess that's not so bad.

After brekkie, I finally, finally, finally tackled my laundry. Three loads which is a lot when you consider I only go out twice a week. But, yes, a plenitude of long satin nighties. I was so relieved when I was finished. Lunch was a toasted bagel (because John had just used it) with sliced cheese (and he offered me the leftovers of his chickpeas, pasta and sauteed garlic to which I added Italian spray dressing).

I tried to have a nap in the afternoon, but it wasn't meant to be. After receiving an e-mail from the church, I asked John if he'd like to accompany me to the cat show at the ex, as the church had obtained free passes for its volunteers. The last time I'd gone was 3-4 years ago; I figure I'll be better off to see the adorable darlings using my glasses and monocular.

I barely averted gastric distress by following my dinner of mixed beans and raw sliced onion with a chaser of two Gravol. So far, no upset. If it's not too horrid out tomorrow, I may actually venture out to buy fresh food. All I have left is a few sorrier-by-the-day pickling cukes.

Anyway, as my fingers hurt so much (because of my industriousness) and I'm too bored (and can't see well enough in the evening) to reach into the china cabinet for a book, I'm pouting and stomping off (yes, in my soft slippers) to bed. Nighty-night, all.

Oh, before I forget, another reason to pout: last night, somewhere between 3-4 a.m., there was - supposedly - the Perseids shower. And, once again, I so miss being out on a Muskoka lake (44 years ago was the last time) in a boat in the middle of the night. Le sigh.