I did a lot of work in the garden today. DH had stuff to do tonight so he dropped me off at a friend's house so I could water her garden. the less than a mile walk home felt good - except for my whining hamstrings. and then I sat. and my shoulders are whining now. I need dinner. I am very motivated to eat it. I just have no motivation to cook it. And less to go out for it.

I crushed twenty cloves of garlic and chopped four containers of strawberries. My fingers are sore.

My apartment is cleaner than it has been in quite a while (possibly ever). Well, the living room and the kitchen. The bed, bath, and office, nsm. I should be still cleaning. And yet...

I crushed twenty cloves of garlic and chopped four containers of strawberries.

Wow. That's an interesting meal.

Now I cooked, washed the dishes, and put in more laundry. I think if I finish off the floppy discs tonight I can call it a win.

I am cold and headachey. I've put on a sweater and closed all the windows and turned up the heat, but I'm not feeling much warmer.

Add my home networking confusion to all that, and I really should be doing something mindless that involves a lot of blankets.

But I really want there to be pie, and I have a ton of apples and butter and flour (and lard--what in hell was I thinking? I was supposed to buy Crisco).

It seems like you've done plenty for now, Debet. I mean, if you clean more now, it might put you off cleaning forever.

Unless you were looking for encouragement?

I baked some salmon in the oven with a merlot jelly and mustard sauce and I had mashed cauliflower. then I had my version of a chocolate shake.

hamstrings are no longer complaining., shoulders are tired, hands and forearms are attempting to scream ( but they have no mouth).

I am not really surprised that I hurt, but I am surprised that things hurt as much as they do...

Hee, Libkitty. I swept the bathroom, and am calling it done.

Now, I'm lying on the hide-a-bed (my apartment is also cold, but I have wood-burning stove! which is in the living room.) watching The Court Jester.

My lungs are still trying to escape.

I have no advice on the creation of pie when a pile of blankets is so appealing

I want a fire.

I'm trying to convince myself that if I bake, the apartment will not only get warmer, it will smell delish. Which is true--but is it enough?

Meanwhile, I think I hate my router.

Baking usually makes me feel warmer.

I am watching Thursday's Supernatural. I keep pausing because I find it disturbing.