A good while ago now, Mrs. G invited readers to share their average day via a photoblog. First, I had to wait to get a digital camera. Second, you may have noticed by now that most of my days are in no way "average." Third, to make matters less than normal, I'm on semester break. And last, there are various points where the day itself (yesterday) veered wildly toward the absurd. And yet that t00 is, in many ways--at least for me--typical.
And so, with a modicum of explanation where needed, I present to you, Saturday, 10 January 2009 as it appeared in Three Feathers.
Lately, I've had a chest cold, so I've been applying essential oils to my chest to try to break up the worst of the crap.
Consequently, there's also a fair amount of this going on throughout the day:
(Yes, I realise I have not even peed yet. Yes, I realise this qualifies me as an addict.)
I have two cats. Only one of them likes me (though they both seem to like being fed).
Without tea, there would be darkness and chaos.
Without these, there would also be darkness and chaos. And also cancer, which is pretty redundant when you think about it.
A little morning music. Sadly, I'm not a big fan of Rhythm Revue (nothing personal, Bob).
A little light research before breakfast....
I was scheduled for my second five-miler in as many weeks, which is (I might add) the only reason I got up at dark-thirty on a Saturday. Well, that and I coughed myself practically right out of bed.
What? There's not even that much snow yet.
A change of plan requires a change of uniform.
Decision time. I have more than one syllabus to write. In fact, I have four--two identical pairs. I have been in deep denial of this since before the break. I also have some last-minute TA application stuff to fill out for various PhD programs....
...but knitting all day in the snow also holds serious temptation.....
Damn. Repsonsibility wins. To the office I go! (the office is also my bedroom, since I am currently in a house that has two other people in it.)
Yay. Lunch. I forgot to ask for lettuce, so I had to insert it later.
Meanwhile, this explains the strange noises and delectable odours coming from the kitchen while I slaved over a hot syllabus:
After lunch, it's time for a little smackerel of something. Mostly to keep my lungs from turning inside-out and ending up all over my nice, fuzzy new sweater. Fresh grated ginger, hot water, fresh lemon juice, honey, and a pinch of (aiee!) cayenne pepper. Good for what ails you. Also, my brain is full and I have hit a bump on my work upstairs and am waiting for an email reply.
Also good for what ails you. Unless what ails you is the black oil.
Speaking of a little smackerel of something....
Oh God. More snow. And more work. Back upstairs.
Don't ask why this is posted on my door. If you have to ask, you haven't met me. Or my dad.
My favourite time of day. 5:30 pm. The time when wine appears as if by magic, wherever we are in the house.
An earnest (and mostly successful) effort to finally finish the ham left over from New Year's dinner.
Except that the house is very cold.
Furnace restored, it's time to clean up.
Tea makes the world go 'round. All set up for tomorrow.
The second bottle of wine...
...it was around this point that my mother randomly referred to a certain New York Times columnist as "the variegated hamster." (and you wondered where I got it from?)
What you see here is not knitting. What you see here is unknitting. More specifically, what you see here is me taking out an entire section of a friend's baby blanket to fix an earlier fuckup. Fortunately it was a fairly minor (though very colourful) fuckup.
A Saturday night ritual. That is, of course, the Sunday New York Times crossword. I know, it's only Saturday night. Everyone should misbehave, just a little.
My toes have turned to raisins....
....and the NyQuil has kicked in.....