Hot damn, children. I'm in one of my rare ebullient moods, so I'm going with it - this weekend has been bang-up. Friday night, we danced until my feet were so tired that n.o.c. had to carry me home. The scene wasn't too shabby, either. Nigh on flossy. (Note the curved door in the last shot. Faaaaaancy.)
Saturday, the team (that would be n.o.c. and me) put forth some A+ effort. With recent travels, the I-can't-bear-to-see-these-wretched-children-again blues, and the unfortunate introduction of a terrible but eminently readable sci-fi trilogy, we haven't been our most productive of late. But I'm thrilled to say that we've officially unf*ckulated our lives; all is bright and beautiful. We ran errands (death to Fed-Ex!), we scrubbed floors, we went to appointments, we bought groceries, we restocked the Lindt balls, we decanted the brandy, we made iced tea, we called the city about the f*cknosed bistro around the corner, we thoroughly impressed ourselves.
Then, as if all that weren't enough, we got today off right with an early trip to the farmers' market. We had curry pockets, Zeke's coffee, and I now have all the fixins for a rhubarb crumble. The day is gorgeous and life is swell.
And then we saw this guy, a harbinger of good things if ever there was one.
UPDATE: n.o.c. just fixed our running toilet, which has required handle jiggling for months. The man is on fire!