Here's for you doubting darlings out there. Proof that I don't hallucinate all the weird crap that befalls me. I'm just too easily overcome at the make-up counter. Fancy doo-dads are hard to resist. And I watched a 'training video' and had much better luck with the vibrating mascara this morning. Until I sneezed from having my eyes open too wide in the bright light of the bathroom. A Mulligan and a few Q-tips later and I looked presentable.
The day was windy, cold, and blowing snow. Temps are dropping even more ("Don't you like having ten toes?"), and I expect it'll be quite a challenge to get into town tomorrow. Ugh. I think I really need a snow day, except I'd have to spend it here, drowning in laundry. Gah.
I started a little bit of non-sock knitting at one-thirty this morning, and by three in the afternoon had to rip it out. Kidsilk Haze really resists giving back the cast on edge, so I'm hoping Redrhonda will come to my rescue. The 'Cardi Cozy' has been shelved in favor of an 'advanced beginner' lacy stole. The kind of knitting that makes me have to pay attention, which would be easier to cope with if I could get sleep. Tonight I'm trying out the Lunesta. I don't have great hopes, but if I wake without a hangover, I'll consider it a success.
Gotta get back to Laundry Mountain. Herr Becher helped the chirruns clean upstairs (and he vacuumed... swoon!), and thus did he solve the age old puzzle of "where's all your clothes"... times five. I thought simply asking them to bring down their laundry was sufficient. I never expected a grown man and his eldest child would have to make four trips downstairs, using a baby gate like a gurney, to get it all down here. And, no, I'm not kidding.
Time for drinkies. Type at y'all latah. C