There's a pick your own strawberries place on the road to my (fingers crossed) new house.

And room temperature better than chilled.

I like apples and pears chilled much more than room temp. I've had very little temperate fruit right off the vine, but refrigerated mango just seems like...no, don't do that. I branched out (har) a little bit to see if I could buy mangoes here, but my first experiment was such a resounding failure I'm not sure it's worth the emotions (because I have those with mangoes, sue me) and the expense.

I just had fresh strawberries on homemade waffles.

This weekend I have promised me oatmeal pancakes. It's a horrible waste, though, since even when I make the least (one egg's worth) there's too much left over and storing either batter or completed pancakes is just not up to snuff another morning's worth. Same with my favourite waffles, although I have not modified those for low gly yet.

Clearly I need breakfast visitors.

Okay, oatmeal is in second and final stage of cooking, tea is brewing, kitchen is tidier than it was this morning. Time to go back to sleep, clearly.

Fruit is better eaten, imo, as close to the picking as possible. Since not usually possible anymore, I just want it not-chilled. If I buy too much fruit and stick it in the fridge for later, later never comes, I don't eat it, and one day I realize I have mold. So now, when I want fruit, I just drive to grocery and get what I want at that moment. Which is only feasible because I'm a five-minute pleasant drive from the grocery and go there about every two days anyway.

My life works better when I get up around 6am. It's hard to convince myself of that, though, when it's 6am and I want to sleep some more. Especially if I don't get to bed before midnight, which I rarely do.

Yesterday my friend C. wanted to take a walk in the park before we went to dinner and movie. This blew my mind; I've never had a friend who exercised for pleasure before. But I went with her, and I was happily surprised to find that I had no trouble keeping up with her, and not much trouble breathing. I even went up a long flight of stairs without stopping! This treadmill thing is working out well.

you don't mind if I tell tales of your...survival to friends and family? Let me have my disordered half-belief that it can't hurt.

share away. I am thinking of turning it all into a comedy routine.

damaged property

I am sure I have...thinking about it, not sure what, but I am sure I have. Weeding may have gotten me through a few years. My nails have not survived.

I am not processing the news of the flyers mandating Jews register themselves in Ukraine or face confiscation of property and expulsion from the country. I need more information, like who the fuck is putting it up, and do they have guns?

From what I read in a New Republic article, whoever did it worked on their own. It was not done by nor backed by the government of Ukraine, and it's not being enforced. "The Donetsk Jewish community dismissed this as "a provocation," which it clearly is." Link.

Housecleaner is here. I am hiding in the dog's room trying not to think about someone else seeing my filth. Well okay, mess. But still.

Dog is eyeing me warily, concerned about this abrupt shift in routine. Every time I make a noise she tenses up and prepares to flee.

Poor Darby. She never completely relaxes, does she?

The story about the flyers in Ukraine reminded me of Rose Under Fire. Which is really good, but it's taking so long to read. It's just a very different story than Code Name Verity, and it's so horrifying to read that I keep having to put it down. I'm about 3/4 of the way through now, though.

xkcd: Free Speech

I'm sure everyone here knows this, but perhaps this could be useful if someone you know is complaining about first-amendment rights every time someone suffers consequences for what they say. (You know, those times where the government had nothing to do with the consequences.)

Your poor girl. She is not made for this world, is she? But she's come such a long way.

The Biscuit is currently in a similar state of bewilderment because the SO is gone. He knows when it's going to happen when he sees him start to pack and gets all worked up. Poor boo. It's gotten worse the older he's gotten. I'm not too sure how he's going to handle this summer's travels. But then we'll be on sabbatical, so he'll have us all to himself all year.

Did I talk about that yet? We're taking a sabbatical. We've been at this for thirteen years and we're beat. Typically it's done every 4-5 years, but we've never done one. So we have this summer's fundraising (camp) and then a year off. We'll study (I think we're going to do some Berklee school of music internet courses), travel, read, relax, vacation some. But mostly recuperate from what has been a hellish last year plus a lot of long years of toil. (Those of you who are our donors will be getting a letter about this shortly.) So, yay.

Oh, ion, paging Erin: your buddy Lawrence wants to know how we met! Haha. All I've told him so far is that you and I go way back. How much do you want him to know? Heh.

Wow, Liese. That's so great. (And envy-inducing.)