stillane: (Default)
[personal profile] stillane
This has been an unexpectedly wonderful day, in the way that nothing truly momentous happened, but what did was great.

I slept late, had the house to myself for the afternoon, and met my mom for dinner. Since I drove down alone, I got to have some quality time with the windows down and the radio up, just thrumming along. I miss motoring, sometimes.

We had sushi, which always makes my world better, and then moseyed on over to the mall. Mom got her hair done and I wandered the long and winding path of the shopper. The local purveyor of smelly things was having a sale; I wound up with a pair of candles and some very nice lotion (lotus fruit and clean linen for the candles, japanese cherry blossoms for the other). I found the totebag of my dreams a little farther on, along with a soft, slightly decorative t-shirt. Further excursions led me to a vendor who insisted on introducing me to the wonders of salts from the Dead Sea - and while they were indeed wonderful, I wasn't quite willing to cough up the associated dollars. End result, light and harmless flirtation in pursuit of a sale on his part, and some very soft hands on mine. Wait... that sounds wrong...

And the surprise delight of the evening: while grocerying (grocing? what, precisely, is the gerund-ish version of that one? hmm.), we encountered the pickled okra I've been craving for months! It's not exactly commonplace around here, so this was something of a feat. (I only got hooked on them in Wyoming, myself.) Tonight, though, I stocked up on the elusive little bastards while I had the chance. For those who haven't yet encountered them, they're a bit like a normal pickle, except the skin is tougher, the seeds are more numerous and smaller, and they're covered in a light fuzz. Yay for fuzzy pickles.

Now I'm home again, doing battle with the persistent pooch. He thinks I should play ball. I think I shouldn't. He's winning, but only by virtue of his diabolical scheme. He drops the ball in my lap, where it then migrates under the desk. If I don't retrieve it - and yes, I am fully aware of the irony there, especially given his breed - he barks. Since the rest of the house is asleep, this is a bad thing. Darn him and his selective cleverness.

There's a lazy moon in the sky and it's been a peaceful night. I'm off to bed - provided I can hide the toys successfully - but here's hoping your days were just as pleasant.

ETA: Apparently, 'grocerying' will get you 'crucifying' when you run a spell check. Huh. So... not the right term, I'm guessing. Also, vaguely disturbing.

Date: 2006-07-01 05:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] feartheotter.livejournal.com
It HAS been a pleasant day isn't it.

Soft hands, eh? *raises eyebrow in typically perverse fashion*

Lazy moons all round. The best aspect of summer, methinks.

And I believe it's grocering, but I'm not sure...

Date: 2006-07-01 05:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] feartheotter.livejournal.com
Hmm. The grammar of the first comment there speaks to my relaxed state, apparently :x

Date: 2006-07-02 03:37 am (UTC)
ext_1740: (Default)
From: [identity profile] stillane.livejournal.com
Hee. Grammar is overrated. No author or work which ever achieved the distinction of 'classic' has adhered to it slavishly. Point first, rules second, I say. Yeah. You can just guess how much my high school English teachers loved me. :>

And yes, very soft hands. *wiggles eyebrows in response* I tend to fight an eternal battle with them, given how much washing is involved in the typical vet/lab day. I might have to break down and acquire some of this salt stuff afterall. Either that, or invest in some more of the Rosemary Mint cream I picked up, which turns out to be surprisingly nice.

Can't see the moon tonight - and by the way, we didn't float away after all :> - but I trust it's just as lovely as last night's. I'm hoping for clear skies soon, though, since the local fireworks extravaganza is on Tuesday. I look forward to them every year; I think it goes along with the fondness of storms.

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