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Let me see if I can focus on the positive for a moment.
I went for coffee with the coffee woman yesterday. She drove. I bought. It was fun but next time I'm getting more than one cookie. I know I'm a fast eater, but 45 minutes to drink a latte? Yeah, I'm going to need more than one cookie just to stave off boredom.
[Okay, yeah, I suck at positive. Although, buying myself two cookies does rather seem like a positive solution.]
Today I went to the farmers market. My favorite tomato farm has a bumper crop of cherry tomatoes. I got 2 pint+ baskets (sans basket) for $5. And a slicing tomato. These people do dry farmed heirloom tomatoes organically. I feel like I should pay them twice what they charge.
Simon had requested peaches and plums. So I bought peaches and something that looks like plums but might be a pluot or whatever they're calling plum crosses that taste like plums, look like plums, and have skins and flesh like plums. Hell with that kind of description you'd think it was a plum. But the sign usually says something else. I've had about enough peach and plum just from the umpteen samples I tried.
I haven't been fruit hungry in a while.
I stopped at a local jam purveyor who is offering a class next month. The class sounds more fun than buying the jam even if it ends up costing 4 times as much per jar.
I attempted to buy chocolate croissants... Simon's been so sick that he's been eating the emergency chocolate the coffee woman brought 4 weeks ago. So I figured today of all days would be good for pastry.... but the good bakery people weren't there.
Then I chatted with my favorite potter. (Not Harry and certainly not Ginny.) But didn't buy anything. That's the problem with having bought exactly what I wanted before. I don't need anything else. It's only me using the mugs and I have the latte bowl-size (with a handle and the flared lip that makes it superior to those fuckwitted Italian coffee bowls which slosh coffee all over your face and make you look like you're Santa getting a spooge facial) and I have the normal Danish-style shape mugs. (They're straight sided with just a bit of an angle and have flat bottoms, but the lip doesn't flare at all. So they're an austere shape.) What makes this guy my favorite potter is the glorious glaze colors.
On the way home I stopped for a roast chicken and potatoes. Which I ate immediately upon coming home, with a large cup-full of cherry tomatoes.
Then Simon killed the spider I found on the ceiling.
My face is finally starting to look better. I have these giant spots. They hurt me, they're not the shallow acne kind. They're the "deep in your core, you're rotten, girl, and this is so everyone can see. evil like this should hurt you through to the skin." kind of spots. I have a dozen or more of them. I blame it on extreme stress, antibiotic rebound, and intermittent hygiene (which wasn't my fault). I've been using real soap, suds up into a lather suitable for shaving, which I leave on for a full minute before scrubbing gently and then rinsing with water and then peroxide. I spray rubbing alcohol on the spots in between the 4 washings per day. And I put neosporin with lidocaine on the spots so I don't poke them and bruise the surrounding skin as well. I feel like people are staring at my face in case I have that non-bubonic plague.
Anyway. That's the best I can do for thinking positively.
I went for coffee with the coffee woman yesterday. She drove. I bought. It was fun but next time I'm getting more than one cookie. I know I'm a fast eater, but 45 minutes to drink a latte? Yeah, I'm going to need more than one cookie just to stave off boredom.
[Okay, yeah, I suck at positive. Although, buying myself two cookies does rather seem like a positive solution.]
Today I went to the farmers market. My favorite tomato farm has a bumper crop of cherry tomatoes. I got 2 pint+ baskets (sans basket) for $5. And a slicing tomato. These people do dry farmed heirloom tomatoes organically. I feel like I should pay them twice what they charge.
Simon had requested peaches and plums. So I bought peaches and something that looks like plums but might be a pluot or whatever they're calling plum crosses that taste like plums, look like plums, and have skins and flesh like plums. Hell with that kind of description you'd think it was a plum. But the sign usually says something else. I've had about enough peach and plum just from the umpteen samples I tried.
I haven't been fruit hungry in a while.
I stopped at a local jam purveyor who is offering a class next month. The class sounds more fun than buying the jam even if it ends up costing 4 times as much per jar.
I attempted to buy chocolate croissants... Simon's been so sick that he's been eating the emergency chocolate the coffee woman brought 4 weeks ago. So I figured today of all days would be good for pastry.... but the good bakery people weren't there.
Then I chatted with my favorite potter. (Not Harry and certainly not Ginny.) But didn't buy anything. That's the problem with having bought exactly what I wanted before. I don't need anything else. It's only me using the mugs and I have the latte bowl-size (with a handle and the flared lip that makes it superior to those fuckwitted Italian coffee bowls which slosh coffee all over your face and make you look like you're Santa getting a spooge facial) and I have the normal Danish-style shape mugs. (They're straight sided with just a bit of an angle and have flat bottoms, but the lip doesn't flare at all. So they're an austere shape.) What makes this guy my favorite potter is the glorious glaze colors.
On the way home I stopped for a roast chicken and potatoes. Which I ate immediately upon coming home, with a large cup-full of cherry tomatoes.
Then Simon killed the spider I found on the ceiling.
My face is finally starting to look better. I have these giant spots. They hurt me, they're not the shallow acne kind. They're the "deep in your core, you're rotten, girl, and this is so everyone can see. evil like this should hurt you through to the skin." kind of spots. I have a dozen or more of them. I blame it on extreme stress, antibiotic rebound, and intermittent hygiene (which wasn't my fault). I've been using real soap, suds up into a lather suitable for shaving, which I leave on for a full minute before scrubbing gently and then rinsing with water and then peroxide. I spray rubbing alcohol on the spots in between the 4 washings per day. And I put neosporin with lidocaine on the spots so I don't poke them and bruise the surrounding skin as well. I feel like people are staring at my face in case I have that non-bubonic plague.
Anyway. That's the best I can do for thinking positively.
