Allrighty then… ow

I just spent the last 90 minutes or so painting in my bathroom.  Originally the whole bath was hot pink, but I just painted two walls and the window enclosure a vivid apricot.  Walking into the room is a trip and a half, really.  But now my back hurts and I believe I’ve lost about five pounds of water weight in sweat.  And there are big, messy splotches where there shouldn’t be and a couple of places where I couldn’t reach the corner to paint there.  The splotches will eventually probably be covered with wall decals that sort of echo the button mosaic, or painted over with the black I’m using on the woodwork.  And a couple will just… show.  Yes pink, orange and black.  It’s that sort of bathroom.  Apart from that, not much doing.  I’m gearing up for NaNoWriMo, and the leading contender for subject is a sequel to Suffer the Little Children.  It’s the only thing that really shouts out to me at the moment.

Glinda’s brother passed away on  Thursday.  She ended up staying home on Friday and we talked a lot, sat outside and drank coffee and looked at family photos.  It’s all good therapy.  I’m not sure which is worse though, someone healthy and happy being cut off in the middle of a good life, or having death come as a relief.  Either way it sucks.

On Saturday we did some shopping.  She felt the need to be productive over the weekend, so we went to Home Despot and bought paint and hardware.  I got materials for a collage I want to work on for Charles, and we bought a lot of fall plants for the front of the house.  Still the prettiest!

Our squirrels are turning into monsters.  Today one of them knocked a potted rose into the hostas, shattering the pot.  Yesterday I heard Glinda shouting “You little bastard!  Get out of here!!”  Turns out she had an apple on the porch and looked up to see a squirrel running off with the apple in its mouth.  Actually I wish I’d seen it; sounds hilarious.  They’ve been using the shelf in front of my windows as a superhighway all week, and digging up plants to hide their stash.  Little shitheads.  They really are funny, though.  I’m hard pressed to dislike them.

And now I’m hungry but almost too tired to bother with food.  Blah.

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