I have nothing to report, really. I just wanted to mention that it's incredibly sunny - brilliant, height-of-summer sunshine, with not a hint of autumn or chill about it. Took me the hell by surprise when I walked into Bicestershire in my winter coat just now, I can tell you.
I have a week off work, and fully intend to spend most of it sleeping. Stuff the housework. I have discussed it with Phoebe and Mintaka, and they are fully behind this plan. I've been to the dentist this morning (hence the trip into Bicestershire), and that's as much forethought as I care to bother with.
Judy went to the monthly Wolvercote SF meeting last night and is now home with a tummy bug. These two facts are unrelated. But that's nothing, we are going to a christening on Sunday. I am not sure which is more likely to burst into spontaneous flame, the church or our pagan selves. Prior to that, we have to survive a visit to my Mama. Explaining that we are visiting on Saturday, not Sunday as usual, will be strenuous, or so past experience tells me ("HELLO, MUMMY. WE THOUGHT WE'D COME AND SEE YOU TODAY." "You mean tomorrow." "NO. I SAID 'TODAY', AND I MEANT 'TODAY'." "Is today Sunday?" "JUST FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, LET'S SAY IT IS.") - but, on the other hand, means we can drop by the Penn Bookshop on the way.
I unconditionally love everyone who's signed up for the sn_holidays challenge over on LJ, and would hug them if they would stand still long enough and didn't all live in far, faraway places. Them as should've but haven't, however, are in grave danger of getting coal in their stocking this year. Or would be, if I had the faintest idea where one gets coal these days. I might have to improvise with a charcoal briquette, and how unfortunate does that sound? Almost as bad as Jeremy stealing Casey's provolone. We don't get a challenge to our very own selves all that often, and why, for the love of god, would you not want to join in? After all, every gift fic written is a gift to the whole of the fandom, not just the recipient, and don't we deserve that?
(Speaking of Jeremys, how very disconcerting to start getting messages from my 40something brother over Facebook, of all things. I assume he's on there to make sure his daughter doesn't go running off with any paedophiles. Or with anyone else, come to think of it. Although cruel people might say ... no, never mind.)
I suppose I should take advantage of the weather and go and sit in the garden, or something. But 'bed' is so much more enticing. I'm sure it'll be hot again ... sometime.
