Mid Ultramarine
Martha Stewart sent me an email yesterday, subject line 'Glittered skeletal parts'. That's the sort of serial killer she'd be, isn't it? It certainly put Oprah's email about '3 ways to make a bold statement with coloured pants' in the shade. (The statement this woman is making would seem to be 'I really like teal', which on the face of it isn't quite as bold as 'boil the flesh off and roll the bones in glitter'.)
My mother said to me today, 'Did you go to your school reunion?' Well, no, I didn't. I didn't know it was on. (My mother heard about it at her monthly Old Nurses' lunch, from the mother of one of the people who did go.) I mean, I wouldn't have gone even if I did know about it, but the organisers clearly didn't stretch themselves finding their former classmates. It's not like I live in a cave in the Himalayas, communicating only by carrier pigeon. I wish I did, but the commute would be dreadful.
My watch stopped last week, so I took it to the jewellers for a new battery. The woman said, 'We'll call you when it's ready.' On Friday, over a week later, I happened to be walking past the shop, so I went in and asked how it was going and the same woman said, 'Oh, it's right here, waiting for you.' So why didn't she call? Hmph. I sometimes think I have some sort of power of forgetability: the second I walk out the door, salespeople blink and wonder why they're standing there. Anyway, I've got my watch back now. I've been feeling lost without it.
Photos of the week:
Day 282. Here's an idea, Day 283. Leaves, Day 284. Collection of mice, Day 285. Stack of saucers, Day 286. Sink full of broccoli, Day 287. A head of lettuce, Day 288. Refilling the shower soap, Day 288a. As day 288, Day 288b. As day 288
My mother said to me today, 'Did you go to your school reunion?' Well, no, I didn't. I didn't know it was on. (My mother heard about it at her monthly Old Nurses' lunch, from the mother of one of the people who did go.) I mean, I wouldn't have gone even if I did know about it, but the organisers clearly didn't stretch themselves finding their former classmates. It's not like I live in a cave in the Himalayas, communicating only by carrier pigeon. I wish I did, but the commute would be dreadful.
My watch stopped last week, so I took it to the jewellers for a new battery. The woman said, 'We'll call you when it's ready.' On Friday, over a week later, I happened to be walking past the shop, so I went in and asked how it was going and the same woman said, 'Oh, it's right here, waiting for you.' So why didn't she call? Hmph. I sometimes think I have some sort of power of forgetability: the second I walk out the door, salespeople blink and wonder why they're standing there. Anyway, I've got my watch back now. I've been feeling lost without it.
Photos of the week:
Day 282. Here's an idea, Day 283. Leaves, Day 284. Collection of mice, Day 285. Stack of saucers, Day 286. Sink full of broccoli, Day 287. A head of lettuce, Day 288. Refilling the shower soap, Day 288a. As day 288, Day 288b. As day 288