My grandfather had varicose veins that kept him out of the military, but he did some aviation...stuff that still put him in Hawaii for Pearl Harbor.(Which was hard for him to talk about, but I don't know if there was a Capital-S Story there or not. I wish I could have known him better, but he died when I was nine.) Not that he was like a living encyclopedia or anything...I think that side is where my love of a dirty story and, you know, Making Shit Up in general comes from, but my mom was very much amused once when we watched a TV show about the flora and fauna of Hawaii and some of the things she thought were the tallest tales were actually backed up by science. I think Grandpa could have been internet-famous, kind of like if Shit My Dad Says Guy was more the Look for The Union Label type.

Made cookie dough this afternoon. I am now pretending that counts as being productive.

Totally counts.

I spent 3 hours volunteering at a Made With Code party tonight. We hosted a bunch of girls and my feet are killing me from all the herding and helping. Now I'm on my way home, where it will be pajamas and wine time.

Oooh, I have wine but I am not yet in pajamas. Good idea!

More wine! That's what this evening is missing. Oh, and dinner but it sounds like that has just arrived.

Last batch of cookies in the oven. 68. Will have to be filled tomorrow night or Sunday morning. I've been at it since 8.

Had my hair appt time wrong; so glad they called! Actually makes scheduling better.

Oops, 77. Forgot to count the tray in the oven.

Is it weird that I am surprised you can make cookies in numbers that are not divisible by 12?

Not really surprised, my dozens don't exactly come out even, but somehow taken aback.

Maybe it's just that the extra-dozen remainders are fair game for eating before they cool off and therefore do not really count as finished product.

I just figured she ate one off the last tray.