Rabbit, rabbit! This afternoon, I bought a card from Porter Square Books and a couple of venison bars from Cambridge Naturals and accompanied one of my husbands on an errand to Formaggio Kitchen. It was the most shopping I had done in person in fifteen months. I'm processing the experience. Porter Square Books sells more socks than I remembered.
I feel like I have forgotten how to write about days in which I interact with people for more than medical reasons, but today's reasons were really nice: after PT, I went over to spend the afternoon with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rushthatspeaks and Fox and celebrate gaudior's birthday when they got home in the evening. We estimated I had not been inside my cousins' apartment since I last helped them put in their air conditioner, which depending on the weather could mean as much as a full year ago. It took me most of the visit, but Mariana Trench eventually emerged to stretch her beautiful abyssal floof across my shoes and make leaving difficult. Rafe emerged instantly and did his best to gnaw on the top of my head as I lay on the couch with Rush-That-Speaks. I took off the shelf but did not get around to re-reading Mercedes Lackey's The Black Gryphon (1994), which was probably for the best. We decorated a carrot cake with clotted cream and strawberries, blackberries, and raspberries; we wrote the card for Gaudior; I ate rosewater loukoumi while hanging around the kitchen and was introduced to XOX Tasty Snack Pulled Pork, which if you need a vegan pork rind in your life, apparently look no further. Fox wanted me to read all three of his books at bedtime, so I read him Jane Yolen's Commander Toad and the Space Pirates (1987) and Commander Toad and the Planet of the Grapes (1982), which were staples of my own childhood when I had no experience of the space opera they were parodying, and Jonathan Stutzman's Tiny T. Rex and the Impossible Hug (2019), which is deeply adorable and contains the important life lesson that a cactus is not the best thing to practice hugging on. For dinner, we had ravioli with porcini mushrooms and a lemon parsley butter sauce that Rush eyeballed from scratch. I even got to talk to rax and their not-on-DW? partner over Discord. And then Rush drove me home and my other husband and I took care of our own cats, one of whom has just draped his tail across the keyboard in a bid to add to the conversation. He probably wants me to translate snapper-up of unconsidered trifles into Homeric Greek. I should find out how The Cambridge Greek Lexicon renders κάμμορος.
I agree with all the slogans about how we cannot consent to return to normal because the previous definition of normal was desperately broken, but in terms of the kind of normal I would like to have in my life, today was a good example.
I feel like I have forgotten how to write about days in which I interact with people for more than medical reasons, but today's reasons were really nice: after PT, I went over to spend the afternoon with
rushthatspeaks and Fox and celebrate gaudior's birthday when they got home in the evening. We estimated I had not been inside my cousins' apartment since I last helped them put in their air conditioner, which depending on the weather could mean as much as a full year ago. It took me most of the visit, but Mariana Trench eventually emerged to stretch her beautiful abyssal floof across my shoes and make leaving difficult. Rafe emerged instantly and did his best to gnaw on the top of my head as I lay on the couch with Rush-That-Speaks. I took off the shelf but did not get around to re-reading Mercedes Lackey's The Black Gryphon (1994), which was probably for the best. We decorated a carrot cake with clotted cream and strawberries, blackberries, and raspberries; we wrote the card for Gaudior; I ate rosewater loukoumi while hanging around the kitchen and was introduced to XOX Tasty Snack Pulled Pork, which if you need a vegan pork rind in your life, apparently look no further. Fox wanted me to read all three of his books at bedtime, so I read him Jane Yolen's Commander Toad and the Space Pirates (1987) and Commander Toad and the Planet of the Grapes (1982), which were staples of my own childhood when I had no experience of the space opera they were parodying, and Jonathan Stutzman's Tiny T. Rex and the Impossible Hug (2019), which is deeply adorable and contains the important life lesson that a cactus is not the best thing to practice hugging on. For dinner, we had ravioli with porcini mushrooms and a lemon parsley butter sauce that Rush eyeballed from scratch. I even got to talk to rax and their not-on-DW? partner over Discord. And then Rush drove me home and my other husband and I took care of our own cats, one of whom has just draped his tail across the keyboard in a bid to add to the conversation. He probably wants me to translate snapper-up of unconsidered trifles into Homeric Greek. I should find out how The Cambridge Greek Lexicon renders κάμμορος.I agree with all the slogans about how we cannot consent to return to normal because the previous definition of normal was desperately broken, but in terms of the kind of normal I would like to have in my life, today was a good example.
