Overcommitted?
Tuesday night I went my my first Madrigal staff meeting. Wednesday night I took scissors to fabric that's been in my stash since I was an undergrad -- possibly since I was a froshling -- to start on the costume for the upcoming event. (Certainly I remember wanting to make my own version of my freshman year roommate's cloak as the motive for getting that fabric. It's just perfect for this character ... and that in no way justifies the size of my fabric stash.) Today there's a making-art-for-friends meme running around. (Which I'd execute as crafts-for-friends -- close enough for me.) I think I don't get to sign up for that right now, as I was already backlogged on things to make for people before I launched into this costume. Perhaps over the winter I'll put a decent dent in my backlog.
aerynne dropped by with her charge this afternoon (fiscal morning -- before work, for me), so I baked half of the cookie dough remaining from the batch I made for the staff meeting. (Did I mention that I was scolded for bringing too many cookies? The horror!) Cookies for breakfast! And dry toast for the young'un. That seems terribly unfair, but he was pretty enthusiastic about his toast bits, and he's only just getting started on solid food. (He also got to chew on the sixth birthday monkey, who suffered this abuse politely and is now drying from the bath necessary to remove the drool and bread crumbs.)
This leaves me with a quarter-batch of cookie dough to bake for the next visitor, and the realization that I'm nearly seven and haven't started planning for that at all, beyond the thought that the dude ranch trip the next summer could be shoehorned into being an appropriate event. (Seven's a good age for thinking horses are the best thing ever, right?)
aerynne dropped by with her charge this afternoon (fiscal morning -- before work, for me), so I baked half of the cookie dough remaining from the batch I made for the staff meeting. (Did I mention that I was scolded for bringing too many cookies? The horror!) Cookies for breakfast! And dry toast for the young'un. That seems terribly unfair, but he was pretty enthusiastic about his toast bits, and he's only just getting started on solid food. (He also got to chew on the sixth birthday monkey, who suffered this abuse politely and is now drying from the bath necessary to remove the drool and bread crumbs.)
This leaves me with a quarter-batch of cookie dough to bake for the next visitor, and the realization that I'm nearly seven and haven't started planning for that at all, beyond the thought that the dude ranch trip the next summer could be shoehorned into being an appropriate event. (Seven's a good age for thinking horses are the best thing ever, right?)