December 27th, 2019

hammy

"Pickle-weasel!"

Yeah, so...currently it's 61˚F. The high on Sunday is forecast at 70˚F.

Toady was sort of a study in how a day gets derailed by...dumb shit. In this case, going back to a junk shop to buy a 1940s Burroughs typewriter that I can't afford, and discovering it was in much worse shape than I expected. So, at least I didn't spend the money I can't really afford to spend on antique typewriters, but, on the other hand, by the time we got back home my thoughts were scattered and I wasn't able to get back into "Seven Dreams."

And my leg still hurts.

I was going to write a little more about The Rise of Skywalker. But it's late and I'm bleary. I will say it was a thoroughly messed-up screening, starting with the curtains that wouldn't open all the way and moving along to my aching leg and and what must have been the worse-timed potty break in all my decades of movie-going. And yet, I still enjoyed it.

Tonight, more good roleplay, then two more episodes of Season Two of Lost in Space.

And on Tuesday, I began reading Thomas Wolfe's Look Homeward, Angel.

Here, below, is that Stegosaurus quilt piece Mom made me for Christmas.

Later,
CRK




11:11 p.m.