![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quislibetMy actual "how my day went" sort of journaling has, this week, mainly been in e-mail messages to J. (who has arrived in Brittany and is discovering to her delight that when we met those friendly people there last year we weren't just catching them on a good night). This entry is adapted from bits of those messages, because why retype something if you don't have to?
Not that I have to put anything here at all, of course. But still.
So there was much lazing about yesterday. After the events of the night before -- an "almost out of gas" problem on the way home from the goth club which caused us to spend much time and most of the gas that MIGHT have gotten us home in seeking a place where one might acquire more gas, finally obviated by a roadside plaza thingy where we had to wait for them to fix the computers that controlled the pump, while my brother stood around painfully aware of the fact that he was, in uncustomary fashion, wearing lipstick, a skirt, and a t-shirt that said "slut" in big, red letters -- we were all slow to wake up, Brother's Pal the slowest.
So Brother and I sat upstairs (for the Pal, for some reason, has chosen consistently to sleep on the short couch down in the living room, rather than on the perfectly good full-size futon available for his use), neither of us willing to choose a course of action for the day, although I limited it to three choices: North Shore drivin', going into town, or showing Brother's Pal how cheesy the local witch museums can be. We eventually decided that driving around would be the best compromise of diversion and expense.
In the meantime, I showed Brother how to make
floppy cats. Neither cat reacted particularly dramatically (unlike the first time I tried it after reading unsound's post on the subjects), although Kitten demonstrated the truth of the assertion that they couldn't figure out how to use their back legs by falling over in slow motion. Then she just lay there looking put upon. When I removed the sock, she twitched her back legs as if trying to wake them up.
Big One ran away, keeping control of all of her legs for a few steps until
she lay down and immediately removed the sock on her own, for lo, she is a clever creature.
Eventually we got in the car and went up 127 to Gloucester and walked
around town. Then we went to the refreshment shack at the visitor center for clams and root beer floats, except that they were out of clams because the flats were closed (which at least is more evidence, if it were needed, that they use fresh local clams). Just as well, I suppose; those little fried bastards are expensive.
Brother's goal was to find bits of sea glass on a beach somewhere for Mom, choosing wisely to pass on the immediate-gratification option of paying eight bucks at a gift shop for a bag of broken glass. The beach at the visitor center was all rocky and so no luck there. Then we went to Rafe's Chasm; it was all pretty-like but even rockier and devoid of the shiny spoils of the sea (discounting any fish with glinting scales one of the people standing out on the rocks may have caught). We tried the famous Singing Beach, but the parking setup is inimical to the casual short-term visitor, so we never got out of the car. Finally, there was a little beach in Beverly (who knew?) where we hit the jackpot and finally Brother had to call a halt to the sea glass collection because his pocket was full.
Then we came home and ate tacos and played D&D.
Tonight, more game geekery in the offing. Come on over.
Not that I have to put anything here at all, of course. But still.
So there was much lazing about yesterday. After the events of the night before -- an "almost out of gas" problem on the way home from the goth club which caused us to spend much time and most of the gas that MIGHT have gotten us home in seeking a place where one might acquire more gas, finally obviated by a roadside plaza thingy where we had to wait for them to fix the computers that controlled the pump, while my brother stood around painfully aware of the fact that he was, in uncustomary fashion, wearing lipstick, a skirt, and a t-shirt that said "slut" in big, red letters -- we were all slow to wake up, Brother's Pal the slowest.
So Brother and I sat upstairs (for the Pal, for some reason, has chosen consistently to sleep on the short couch down in the living room, rather than on the perfectly good full-size futon available for his use), neither of us willing to choose a course of action for the day, although I limited it to three choices: North Shore drivin', going into town, or showing Brother's Pal how cheesy the local witch museums can be. We eventually decided that driving around would be the best compromise of diversion and expense.
In the meantime, I showed Brother how to make
floppy cats. Neither cat reacted particularly dramatically (unlike the first time I tried it after reading unsound's post on the subjects), although Kitten demonstrated the truth of the assertion that they couldn't figure out how to use their back legs by falling over in slow motion. Then she just lay there looking put upon. When I removed the sock, she twitched her back legs as if trying to wake them up.
Big One ran away, keeping control of all of her legs for a few steps until
she lay down and immediately removed the sock on her own, for lo, she is a clever creature.
Eventually we got in the car and went up 127 to Gloucester and walked
around town. Then we went to the refreshment shack at the visitor center for clams and root beer floats, except that they were out of clams because the flats were closed (which at least is more evidence, if it were needed, that they use fresh local clams). Just as well, I suppose; those little fried bastards are expensive.
Brother's goal was to find bits of sea glass on a beach somewhere for Mom, choosing wisely to pass on the immediate-gratification option of paying eight bucks at a gift shop for a bag of broken glass. The beach at the visitor center was all rocky and so no luck there. Then we went to Rafe's Chasm; it was all pretty-like but even rockier and devoid of the shiny spoils of the sea (discounting any fish with glinting scales one of the people standing out on the rocks may have caught). We tried the famous Singing Beach, but the parking setup is inimical to the casual short-term visitor, so we never got out of the car. Finally, there was a little beach in Beverly (who knew?) where we hit the jackpot and finally Brother had to call a halt to the sea glass collection because his pocket was full.
Then we came home and ate tacos and played D&D.
Tonight, more game geekery in the offing. Come on over.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-06-20 09:07 am (UTC)