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I never quite realize how much stress I'm under until I get a break from it (or until I start getting overdraft notices, take your pick). I took Friday off to make the three-day holiday weekend into four, and oh, the sense of healing!



Friday, following after a restorative afternoon in [personal profile] roseambr's excellent company, happy chance brought me into contact with Leslie, as already reported.

I got absolutely drenched on my ride home from the dress shop where that encounter took place, and this seemed as good an excuse as any to take nice warm magnesium soak in the Bathtub of Resuscitation, during which I read quite a bit more of Jo Walton's Among Others1.

Then I spent the sleepy evening knitting. And not just knitting: practicing. Doing, as it were, knitting exercises, in preparation for beginning a new cardigan.2

Yesterday I didn't leave the house till the need for milk and cat food drove me to the corner grocery around dinnertime. I passed a good portion of the day in a truly stellar conversation with [personal profile] ravurian which, according to Google, went on for more than a thousand lines.3

The indulgence of spending an idle day sleeping in, pleasing no one but myself, and barely even getting dressed, is a luxury that only a vacation or a very long weekend can afford me.

To make up for yesterday's idleness, I rose at a respectable hour this morning and was at New Seasons Market for my weekly shopping by 8:30.4 After loading my bike baskets with delicious goodness, I rode to meet my mom for coffee, and discovered that my nearest farmer's market had re-opened for the season. I got eggs! And the freshest piece of wild-caught king salmon that I think I've ever eaten.5

I was just beginning to transfer my new knitting techniques from practice yarn to the real thing when my phone rang and it was Leslie! There's a Zumba class tomorrow at 6:00, and she actually called me to goad me into it, knowing that tomorrow is a holiday and that I couldn't use the work excuse. So I'm going to Zumba at last. \o/

There's a roast in the oven, and in a few minutes I'm going to take it out and make ultra-vanilla-y custard from a couple of those fabulous farm-fresh eggs. My kitchen looks like a cyclone hit it, but I think by tomorrow I might be rested enough to clean it up.



1I'm enjoying it. It's the kind of slow-unfolding story with slow-building suspense that I particularly admire.
2This one in this wool.
3Ironically, we were discussing writer's block.
4I don't even get to work at 8:30
5It was fabulous, pan-fried in a bit of butter and balsamic vinegar with dill and salt.


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