(no subject)

I officially declare Stonyfield Farms soy yogurt to be icky. And it's too sweet.

Last night I was going to make buns o'goodness, but did not, because someone showed up at my door bleeding from a leg wound. Even when he's not being a klutz and sanding off chunks of epidermis with a belt sander, he attracts disasters like moths to a flame. It's truly amazing. So I am not enough packed nor are the buns made, because first we had to clean him up a little, then I had to put my head between my knees for a bit so I didn't pass out (apparently I don't react well to the concept of blood leaving someone's body in unnatural ways), then we ran over to Walgreens for butterfly closures (huge first-aid kits, no butterfly closures?!) and wound wash, then back to his place so he could patch himself up, then back to my place. And then it was bedtime.

So no buns o'goodness. But I am sort-of packed, which I suppose is progress of a kind.

But no need to feed the husband tonight, and a dishwasher load has been done, so I can nibble jerky and bake when I get home. Or such is the theory.

And tomorrow, off to Quest for Camelot, in the lovely Black Hills, where there are no bugs, and I will slather every exposed square millimeter of myself with sunblock to avoid a repeat of The Week After Coronet.

Whang! Clang! Bash! Thud!

I will admit that had I not watched the latter 2/3 of Warrior Challenge! on PBS last night, I would have gotten more done. But it was amusing if you ignored the idiot announcer. A Brit mounted cop and a polo player in armor, learning to bash on each other and to joust. Next week is the Viking episode, which I am going to have to watch as well.

I got a surprise phone call from the little blonde one this morning--apparently I am still her girlfriend even though we haven't really talked to each other for at least nine months. Okayyyy. Not that I really mind, though. And she's getting married the weekend of Schutzenfest, so I suppose me not cooking feast is a good thing.

I have my list of things to pack that aren't in the pile on the couch yet. I need to pack a wool dress, and my meds, and a whisk or two for cooking (and a bowl or two to go with the whisks, so crepes can be made), and some fiber to spin, and some other stuff. And most importantly, I need to find something to pack everything that isn't in the sewing basket.