...although my sink still won't drain.

I'm thankful for the good things too. Some of you know I've had some hassles with a barfing cat and a minor fender-bender, but I also have some wonderful friends, both old and new, including a Special Naked Friend who made me very happy this weekend.

It was a dreary rainy day but we made bread, and focaccia for the coming week and about 9 litres of pasta sauce and a tray of artichoke squares for freezing. I made vindaloo for supper and the rain and lightning have made the air smell nice, so yeah, sweet.

I had in-laws up for the weekend, but we had fun anyway. And then when we got rid of them after lunch today, it was even better.

Cooking is so therapeutic sometimes, isn't it? When I need to shut out the white noise in my head, I love cooking something slow and involved (bread is perfect, so is curry or some long French dish).

I can't believe I forgot the best part. My wonderful, sexy SO has been here all weekend, and helped out with indoors stuff while I was outdoors, and even fixed my confuser so I can post on Metachat this evening!

...and even fixed my confuser...

Yes. Cat hair + power supply = bad. hairy little bastidge...

I can top that gaspode. We hosted my niece's first birthday this weekend, so my house was full of inlaws that weren't even mine.

yay for matildaben's Special Naked Friend! they're wonderful, aren't they?

Special Naked is the best kind of friend.

aren't you glad you took the plunge and got involved at mecha?

yes, porpoise, many thanks for talking me into it. these bunnies are the bestest.

Sometimes life is that sublime kiwi or avocado you score at the farmer's market: soft and sweet and perfectly ripe longer than seems possible. More than tasting good, it nourishes you to the tips of your toes and makes you feel five years younger with every bite. Each morself of such fruit is so thoroughly absorbed it goes straight to the soul, shedding all physical substance.

Other times, life is that 10lb. bag of granny smiths you buy at Snosterbla because they look so green and crisp, but which turn out to be a plague of mushy-yet-firm, entirely-un-sweet, nasty-ass-shit. It taunts you from the fruit bowl for an unnaturally long period before going bad - for which you inexplicably still feel guilty, for it never got eaten.

Trust scarabic to pull together a phliosophical outlook on life and fruit. Interesting, tho, innit that you gotta pay money to either get satifaction or disappointment. Why, I remember when, I was a wee lad.... we were gowing up with just a few kind of fruits things were different then....

Today was good here. Perfect weather in the morning; walked to and sat at my local grocery store (which has a fabulous patio), read the paper and drank a liter of jasmine tea. Came home, chored over the crossword puzzle for a while. Cleaned the chicken coop and went on backyard chicken-shit patrol (which wasn't so fun, actually, but at least the neighborhood smells better). Then the rain clouds came, so I fell asleep on the couch. Rain passed, sun came out again. Went back to the store for provisions and made a fabulous Indian meal. Watched HBO.

All in all, it was a lovely day, except for the unspoken, telephonic guilt trip I got from my mother. That part sucked. But at least I know I didn't deserve it. Trying to shrug it off.

Indeed a good weekend. I love dirt! Next weekend we might have a chance to walk barefoot in my friend's freshly tilled garden up in the mountains. I tried unsuccessfully yesterday to post a recount of our trip to a buncha local organic farms, I'll give it another shot....