Ridiculously quick post.

Knit Night last night was no fun. Young twit, about 14, humanoid male, potty mouth. When the manager at the venue did nothing after three f-bombs in five minutes, I voted with my feet.

Oh, how I wished that Brother Sushi (multiple black belts) and/or the late Brother Stilts (6’5” of pure gristle and German-Irish attitude) had been there. Probably just as well that they weren’t, but I was definitely in the mood for a little applied mayhem at the time. 1BDH and 2BDH both have martial arts training, and Fourthborn’s beloved (like Brother Stilts) is redneck-once-removed. It would have been fun to have had all five of them there last night.

Sometimes I am not at all inclined to turn the other cheek; sometimes my warrior-queen is screaming to get out. Last night was one of those nights.

When I finish calming down, I will write a letter to the manager of that venue.

BittyBubba’s present appears to be bone-dry on the blocking board, but I’m giving it today as well, before I wrap it up. His little brother’s present is nearly a quarter done.

Also found Firstborn’s present, at the fourth Target store in as many days.

The new guy has invited me to his ward’s temple night, next week. In return, I have invited him to my ward’s session a few days later. He is making noises about feeding me dinner soon. I like this!

A dear friend, who lived with us briefly in the mid-1980’s, has moved back to Texas with her family. We’ve already spoken on the phone and are getting together soon. She was living in Houston-adjacent when life was falling down around our ears in the Hill Country, and she drove up one afternoon for some chick time. That was 18 years ago!

Work was really good yesterday. I closed two cases and opened another.

And now it’s time to grab various and sundry stuff and ease on down the road. Beausoleil, or Scotland the Brave? I think, perhaps, the latter.