I've also had good luck using silicone pot holders and high-tech grippy oven mitts (can't think what they are made of, looks like rubber?) to add friction (esp when the torque wrench thingy is out in the shed because it also gets used on pipes and sometimes gets put away with the other plumbing tools instead of staying in the kitchen).

My faux-livestrong bands have never failed me before. But such is the downside (still haven't cashed in on the upside) of having ridiculously soft palms that you moisturise obsessively.

The lid-tapping wasn't enough considering I'm fresh out of the bath and slippery handed, but in conjunction with the wrist band, voila!

I can have pasta tonight (the refrigerated bottle of marinara sauce went off way fast--I've never had that problem with my normal sauce, vodka, so didn't even pause to think there'd be differences...) I had to have a super small portion the other night because I was too exhausted to do anything myself, and I had to toss one almost full jar, and was being taunted by the unopened one.

Okay, haircut time. Will try to not buy art supplies, but--it's rough out there.

I'd like a break. Maybe next month.

I will really miss Mike.

I've moisturized to the point when I can't open my mascara. I like soft skin, sure. But, yeah, no grip.

and now he's come back into the living room and is curled up on my lap, quite content.

That is lovely. I am so happy you found a way to help.

Maybe it's not that he likes those things; rather he just likes you.

Yeah, I think this must be it!

Aww, Cass, how hard.

Good for curled up kitty.

I have been mocked by mockingbirds. I have also been laughed at by a parrot. Our kennel owner had one, and I once made the mistake of laughing in its presence. It not only repeated the laugh at me (which made me laugh, thus triggering an endless cycle) that day, but remembered me, and would laugh at me (in my voice) every time I entered the room thereafter.

I;m glad you found something that works, Anne. Poor Jeeves, but he is lucky to have you.

Cheesecake popsicles, while not as exciting as coffee popsicles, are quite tasty and seem like an excellent way to solve my cream-cheese-doesn't-come-in-small-enough-sizes-for-my-taste problem.

It turns out that in addition to the axel, a bolt in the frame of the car was broken. Initially they said they had the part, but it turned out they didn't. In fact, they have to get the part from out of state, so it won't be fixed until Wednesday or Thursday. A loaner car is being arranged for me to pick up on Monday. Sigh...

Cass, Jess, Anne -- that is too much serious suck. I am so sorry.

Jesus.

Does anyone want to help me decide what kind of car to buy?

Does anyone have feels about VW Passat or Toyota prius?

Prius!

Mind, I have no reason beyond kneejerk Bay Area pro-hybrid snootiness for those feels, but at least I own them.

To distract from all the sadness, I present this morning's adventures in Learning To Read:

Matilda's reading is getting better and better, and she's also starting to suss out that a lot of the letters she sees don't actually spell words but are acronyms that stand for groups of words. She sounds out a lot of her words all on her own, and "Mama/Dadda, what does 'B-a-t-m-a-n' say?" is getting increasingly crowded out by things like "Mama/Dadda, what does 'I-n-c-dot' stand for?"

This morning was mostly full of L-t-d-dot and E-s-t-dot and t-m and so on, all of which we dutifully but unenthusiastically explained from the kitchen as we cooked and cleaned while she puttered in the living room, until she called out, "Mama? What does S-slash-M stand for?"

HOLY CRAP, I entered that living room at the speed of light, to find, thank all that's merciful, that she was looking at a box of small-to-medium overnight diapers.