Yesterday was a Very Busy Day. Young Indiana and I had an appointment at 10am and errands to run beforehand (because I had more appointments later and couldn’t do the errands after), so we tore out of the house at 8:45 and rushed to the store to pick up Item A, which was supposed to be in Monday and which I’d gone to get Monday and they’d said oops, the trucks not here yet, come back later in the week. Well, it wasn’t there yesterday either. *squinchy face* So I had to extend the reservation on it because there was no way I was going to pick it up today. And then we rushed across the city centre to get pumpkin to make pie with, only the store which had had it last week (the only store which ever has canned pumpkin, which is not a Thing here), no longer had any. *headdesk* And by then we were running late, so I had to tear back home and change clothes for my exercise class, and just after I’d hauled on a pair of sweatpants, the doorbell rang.
I ran downstairs. A man I’d never seen before was there. I assumed he was selling something. I snarled, “This is a really bad time,” and started to close the door in his face. Only it turned out he was the plumber coming to fix the radiator, so I apologized all over myself, said Thursday was worse, maybe Friday? and he went away and Young Indiana and I ran out to class.
My sister’s teaching the class. She’s a very good teacher and it was great fun, even though I could only stay for an hour (of two) because that was as long as Indy’s patience lasted. I’m all torn now, because it’s at the same time as baby cinema and I really want to see next week’s baby cinema film! Wah!
Then I ran home again and did two Skype interviews with 9th grade English classes in Massachussets who have read Rabbit Tricks as part of their curriculum. Then, bereft of pumpkin, I rushed out again and bought butternut squash to make pie with, and rushed home again to do the last interview. Except I’d gotten the time wrong and almost missed the entire thing. *headdesk*
Then I baked one squash and pureed the other raw & cooked it down (as an experiment in seeing if one method has better flavor, but ultimately baking & then pureeing was a lot less of a pain in the ass so that’s what I’ll do regardless, in the future) and cooked dinner and went to bed.
The End.
OMG! I just read about Ireland’s financial woes and saw that the sales tax is 21% there! I totally envy you for living there and all, but…21% going to 23% in a few years does ease the green monster of jealousy back into its cave just a tish. How are all these changes affecting you? I thought I read something affecting the enviable writer’s taxes thingy Ireland does, too.