Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

I wish I understood why it is that, whether I follow a recipe or just wing it, I never seem to make enough white sauce for the scalloped potatoes. I wouldn't mind knowing why they always take two billion more hours to cook than I expect, either.

It's been a frustrating day, tiny pockets of productivity sandwiched between great hulking episodes of boredom and restlessness. I spent a chunk of the morning in my default coffee shop, swilling coffee that I remembered to be much tastier and trying to force myself to focus on the story I'm working on. I kept getting distracted, although considering I was the only customer in the place, there must have been an element of willfulness involved. It took Chris and Lance a solid two hours to get three quarters of the way up a staircase, and they weren't doing anything more interesting than moving upward. Gah!

Back home, I sat on the front porch and drank tea and watched the cat get all giddy in the garden and listened to the wind fooling around in the rose bush and was impressed at how the boy across the street entertained himself endlessly with a basketball and no concrete to bounce it on and yeah. That was nice. So I picked up the notebook again and finally got the guys to the top of the staircase.

I must be the slowest writer on the planet.

JC mood icons - yay!

Just discovered these simply delicious mood icons posted by batgrrl1975.

He's such a lovely, lovely boy.