Ms.Ravelled hits the bar...

Courtesy of Fourthborn, and lurking in the fridge for a couple of weeks. We are celebrating. Keep reading to find out why.

She may be “just a kid”, but she speaks eloquently. I really enjoy her column on Meridian.

And Richard Eyre, who also writes beautifully, must have been tired when he proofread his third-from-last paragraph. [I believe that he meant to say “tenets”, not “tenants”. No, I have not read any of Dan Brown’s books, nor am I particularly interested in doing so. But I do have a well-honed sense of irony. So I enjoyed the article.]

My MIA Cuprit, or her replacement, left the factory in Korea yesterday. She needs to get here, clear customs, and then thread the minefield [who knew?] which is the USPS. But this time the manufacturer has the correct shipping address; so now it’s just a matter of her being delivered on a day when Fourthborn’s office is open for business. Most likely next Monday.

I am so jazzed that I woke an hour and a half ahead of my alarm this morning. Thankfully, I have no meetings tonight after work; an early bedtime is a real possibility.

And I have about half of the first bit on my sister’s birthday present done; roughly 3.5 bits to go, and my gauge is sufficiently more loose than the pattern specifies, so that I may be able to get the entire project out of one ball rather than two.

Somebody had fried chicken on the train home last night. Trainman and I were both going out of our minds. After the baptism, I asked several church friends where the closest Chicken Express was, but nobody knew, so I called Secondborn. She told me exactly how to get there. I don’t often get in the mood for fried chicken, but last night my limbic brain would accept no substitutes. Mm, chicken tenders and a biscuit, all dunked in cream gravy. My ankles are none too happy with me this morning, but the rest of me is quietly content.