It got hot
Six months ago, this is what we were dealing with. Remember? It was cold and dark and nasty and we were cold and bitching and nasty and it seemed like summer would never happen ever again.
Well, it's here now. Think frosty days and wind whipping ice crystals into your frozen skin. Hold that thought firmly in mind as you head out to the trip home. Then take a minute to feel the heat and the light and humidity. Take a full sensual picture to pull out when it's cold and dark and nasty again. Because it will be.
Knitting will be here on Saturday. I invited 20 plus ladies as usual. I have heard from 9 so far. four yes and five no. So we are going to have a strawberry and angelfood orgy with iced tea (and hot tea) and Gingeroos cookies and chicken salad sandwiches on Dave's Killer Rye Bread. Dave is an ex-con who finally figured out that he is happier when he is doing right than when he's doing wrong. He learned how to bake bread and turns out the most awesome bread in the city. And I may go pick up a Sin-dog too. That's thin pastry rolled around sugar and cinnamon and sunflower seeds looking sort of like a giant hotdog. Yeah, now that I think about it, we gotta have us a sin-dog to go with our strawberry orgy. Photos to follow, of course.
I worked two days this week, and will be taking GED to the jail one morning a week for the rest of the month. It's not a living, but it's a token. I really need an externally imposed schedule or I dawdle away the whole fricking day. It was great to get back into harness, but in the four weeks I've been gone, it's astounding the number of things which have changed. At least I was smart enough to write down all the passwords for the computer, or I would have needed to be completely re=trained.
DH works in a machine shop and they have this awesome robot which should be able to do the tedious, dead-boring work for about four floor monkeys (machinists) freeing them up to do something requiring a bit more intelligence. Unfortunately, this robot is - well - depressed. It's not being used in the way it was intended to be used (because its operators, being men, never need to read instruction manuals.) (DH is NOT one of these operators. Every time we get a new machine, he sits down and reads the entire instruction manual.) But the robot is being abused. It's being rid hard and put up wet and tweeked incontinently. And today, after the company electrician re-wired it, it ripped out those very wires and committed suicide. It will be revived - again. This is not the first time it has unplugged itself, but this is one of the most thourough self-deletes it has managed to date. The floor monkeys are gonna have to work overtime now. DH, thank all the powers that be, is a jig and fixture machinist - not a floor monkey.