I can go online, but I've fried most of the letters on the bottom row. That happened earlier this week. As did getting rear ended on the way to work on Tuesday. I'm fine. Diana is in the shop, and I'm driving a sleek black Altima that I've named Black Widow.
Last weekend Middlest and I saw "The Bookshop" and loved it. It's not a happily ever after movie, but we both found the ending quite satisfying.
Today Secondborn and BittyBit (who is now nearly as tall as I am) saw it. They were less impressed. Maybe living with my bipolar child has skewed my sense of humor?
Have I mentioned that Littlebit and 5BDH are expecting? I'm picking up the tempo on baby socks. Plus there are two new families in the ward who are due about the same time.
I've been going a little nuts buying books for my shelves or my Kindle. I pre-ordered Bob Woodward's book on the current presidency. It should pop up midweek. Meanwhile, I am plowing through a history of the CIA. I blame Malcolm Gladwell.
Tola, you'll be pleased to know that I am finally in a position to support the local public radio station. Their fund drive ended last night, and I called them on the way home from work (buckets of rain; stuck in traffic) and gave them my widow's mite.
In other news, I'm rehabbing my left foot for plantar fasciitis. Got a shot (owie!) and am trying to remember to do my exercises.
1BDH sold the Tardis for me, so I've been having a little fun with the proceeds. Four new skeins of Manos del Uruguay for future projects. It's so much fun to reach over to the fallow side of the bed and pet the yarn.
Time for me to take evening meds, read my BOM, and call it a day.
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