It's been a perfectly lovely day. I did get to hang the sheets on the line and as always, Maurice had to come and observe. I wonder if she grades me on my performances. I personally think I should get an A on sheet-hanging.
Gardening? Eh, probably a C.
I went to the post office and Shelly was there. She's the lady I see on walks when I go a route that I haven't been on in a long time. Of course, me, with my face blindness, did not recognize her but I don't think she was offended. I told her about the face blindness thing and she graciously accepted that. We chatted for a few. She seemed to be in a good mood and I was glad to see her. We hugged.
I've been waiting for weeks and weeks for three Christmas presents to arrive and they finally did today. And oh my god! I have laughed and laughed at this situation.
First of all, the website I ordered them from seemed perfectly legit and the photography for the items was terrific. The prices weren't so low that I was suspicious of a scam and you know how I was before Christmas- crazy! And I'd actually gotten some shipping updates in the last few days so I was pretty sure that all would be well. Quite late, but well.
So the package came today and I go to open it and notice that it is from China, and I do mean, FROM China. The return address and shipping information was all in Chinese (I assume) except for my name and address and I suppose that's why it took so long to get here. And then getting into the wrapping was insane. I have never seen so much bubblewrap and plastic wrapping and weird styrofoam in my life. Also packing tape of several colors. And when I finally got to the items themself I was at first a little disappointed but then I just started being amused. Really, the things are not so bad. Well, except for one of them which is a complete piece of shit. I figure that the kids will just enjoy the funkiness of them and laugh too. I mean- I can't send them back. There wasn't even a return package slip. Or any sort of paperwork in the box for that matter.
So that amused me and I am tucking the whole experience into the "lessons learned" file, and honestly, except for the terrible one, they are acceptable.
In literary news (haha!) I had downloaded "Go Tell The Bees That I Am Gone" by Diana Gabaldon, not realizing that it was part of the Outlander series. I spent about a year listening to most of those books and I enjoyed them. I even tried watching some of the series on TV but even though the eye-candy was delicious and the sex was pretty hot, the violence was more than I cared to deal with. There was an awful lot of that in the books too but the blood just isn't as red in books as it is on the screen. And I spent about a week listening to this new book and it was okay but I realized early on that it was something like 49 hours of listening (not kidding- 928 pages) and after listening to about fifteen hours of it, I was doing the audible version of skimming and would find myself wondering, "Now wait. Hold on. Who is this? What's going on? Are we in North Carolina or Savannah?"
And today I returned it to the library. I was falling behind on my podcasts! This is not to say that I didn't find a lot of what I did listen to interesting. Jamie and Claire still make wild passionate love under the stars, which I found to be charming, and I do still very much appreciate the huge amount of research that Gabaldon does on everything from history to herbal medicine to life in the colonies before the revolution to Native Americans to the butchering of wild hogs. I do not have a clue as to how she does it. And she's not a bad writer. Perhaps I'll go back to it at some point but now is not the time.
With my eyes I'm reading "The Morning Star" by Karl Ove Knausgard and I am not sure why. It sort of has me spellbound, even as it depresses the fuck out of me in that Norwegian, angsty way. I've never read any of his other books and I take it that this one is quite different from those which are auto-fiction? I think we call it?
It may be time for me to go back and reread another Larry McMurtry book soon. Perhaps even his "The Morning Star" which, although sharing a title with Knausgard's book, has nothing in common with it.
I finished Maggie's blanket!
Chip is one of those people. He's in my heart and so why shouldn't he be in my kitchen?