In alt.polyamory, (Aqua) wrote in
<tfu3f5-3s7.ln1@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>::
>Ann Burlingham wrote:
>> nothing much to it - we slept in, twice, as it were. gathered some
>> sticks from the lawn and firewood from out back of the barn (the house
>> is chilly), filled the birdfeeder, did not gather dandelions for
>> wine-making, though they are in bloom and today, though windy and
>> cold, was sunny, unlike yesterday, which was rainy. washed the
>> bedsheets. played with stuffed animals. found the screwdriver, removed
>> back of toy vehicle, need to go buy batteries. watched "toy
>> story". let the cat out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in. spring stuff.
>
>It was Labour (Labor? I get confused on this particular word) Day today.
> We did a lot of sleeping in and snuggling, some tidying up in the
>kitchen, had friends around, I was a piece of playground equipment for a
>three-year old, finally got to actually sit down at the computer at 5pm,
> and dinner is underway, while more tidying up is happening in the
>garage. I think the cats spent the entire daylight period out on the
>balcony sunning themselves. They were certainly very reluctant to come
>back in at sunset.
It's a Bank Holiday here, so in line with tradition, it's rained most of
the (long) weekend.
--
Marc
Good literature is about Love and War. Junk fiction is about ***
and Violence. (Ofer Inbar)
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