This lane is my lane.

This lane's not your lane.
Get out of my lane,
and into your lane.

(With no apologies whatsoever to Woody Guthrie. If he were still mortal and had to drive Central Expressway, it would have its very own folk song. And possibly a double-platinum album.) Did a lot of driving today. Fourthborn came up with a lot of musical quips as soundtrack.

We had a great, incredibly productive day.

And we are both peopled-out.

And there is yarn.

And Middlest got Justice's new eyes put in while we were out.

And the plumber discovered that not only the P-trap was holey, so was the sink. We have a new, inexpensive sink, because I didn't have the time or the synapses to figure out how to remodel the guest loo while we were shuttling from one place to another. The new sink is not-ugly. Nor is the [shudder] chrome faucet. Both will last until I'm ready to put in the gorgeous vessel sink that I bought last year.

I got a lot of knitting done on Avery's second sleeve while we were out and about today. Enough that there's a decent chance I will finish it at knit night tomorrow night. (I don't know why I capitalize the Tuesday knitting group but generally not the Thursday one.)

Pictures maybe tomorrow night. Middlest took some great ones, and I'm not sure how to get them out of text and IM and into a post.