Looks like I will be doing more laundry again today. Sigh. I hope this is just a phase and that it too will pass.
Yup, I did laundry. And it was a zippy, pleasant experience, all things considered. I washed a second pillow. I guess I will be adding at least one pillow to each laundry experience. Who knew that you could wash pillows to give them a second, puffier life? Probably lots of people, just not me.
Did a little bit of Smith work today. That is a good thing. Wrote a bit of the "So you want to be the technical director at the Smith" manual. And a few other puttery sorts of things.
Mostly, I just didn't do anything - well, made lunch, made dinner, did laundry, played xBox (and did decently), listened to a good bit of Harry Potter, cleaned the kitchen, napped, played on my phone, went to the Smith and filled out my time card and did a little data entry.
Mom can be really cute at times. She always has been able to do that when necessary. Now it just happens on its own occasionally. Recently, she took a book from the Theatre Bookshelf outside of her bedroom. For the next day or two she asked me who Woody Allen was. I answered in the obligatory 637 different ways, mostly with elements of truth in each answer. Then, when I was heading back to my room, she pointed at the book and told me in all seriousness that I should read the book - I would learn a lot. It was the biography of Woody Allen, of course. I don't think I will probably read it.
There are so many books in this house that I have never read. Or have never been read by anyone living in this house. Ever. I wonder just how many. Hmm. I know that at one time there were 15,000 books in the house, at least. But of those, how many have never been read by anyone who has ever lived here. First, the house isn't that old. Maybe the 40s. My father came to the house in the late forties. And he certainly didn't read all the books that existed in the house in his time. And he most definitely did not read any of the books that have come to the house since his demise. My mom, also quite a reader, did not read many of the books here when she was avidly reading them. Me? hahahahahaha. Karl? Juliet? Ernst? Well, maybe Ernst and Juliet have read most of the books that were in the house in their times here - but since their time?
Mostly, I just didn't do anything - well, made lunch, made dinner, did laundry, played xBox (and did decently), listened to a good bit of Harry Potter, cleaned the kitchen, napped, played on my phone, went to the Smith and filled out my time card and did a little data entry.
Mom can be really cute at times. She always has been able to do that when necessary. Now it just happens on its own occasionally. Recently, she took a book from the Theatre Bookshelf outside of her bedroom. For the next day or two she asked me who Woody Allen was. I answered in the obligatory 637 different ways, mostly with elements of truth in each answer. Then, when I was heading back to my room, she pointed at the book and told me in all seriousness that I should read the book - I would learn a lot. It was the biography of Woody Allen, of course. I don't think I will probably read it.
There are so many books in this house that I have never read. Or have never been read by anyone living in this house. Ever. I wonder just how many. Hmm. I know that at one time there were 15,000 books in the house, at least. But of those, how many have never been read by anyone who has ever lived here. First, the house isn't that old. Maybe the 40s. My father came to the house in the late forties. And he certainly didn't read all the books that existed in the house in his time. And he most definitely did not read any of the books that have come to the house since his demise. My mom, also quite a reader, did not read many of the books here when she was avidly reading them. Me? hahahahahaha. Karl? Juliet? Ernst? Well, maybe Ernst and Juliet have read most of the books that were in the house in their times here - but since their time?
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