just about as yeomanly as a movie could be

I slept so hard last night that I wore myself out. There was a brief flurry of activity this morning that involved emptying the dishwasher and making French toast (from stale sourdough) and bacon, and now I want to DO something but I cannot seem to manage it. My real dream of the moment is to find lovely, cheap frames for 12x12 inch artworks and redecorate my room. Kate has one that she got from Ikea but I don't see it on their website and a three hour (each way) drive might be slightly foolish if my only goal is to obtain a picture frame. Basically I've just hit the point where I'm bored with the way things look.

The final baby tally from church was one girl, two boys, in the span of exactly two weeks. FYI.

I have the feeling that there is something I should be doing, but I'm not quite sure what it is.

I've been rereading Edward Eager (Knight's Castle) who is just too delightful.

"Now that he was eleven, he kept the soldiers just as a collection. But when he felt lonely or unhappy, or when things went wrong, he sometimes still secretly played with them, for all the world as though he were still only ten-and-a-half."

When Roger's toy soldier starts speaking to him, he remembers "from his reading that Psammeads and Phoenixes and Mary Poppins always had to be addressed with due deference."

Ivanhoe is declared "just about as yeomanly as a movie could be."

"Roger enjoyed science-fiction books, too, but there their father drew the line. He said they were like having bad dreams on purpose, and if the Flying Saucers really have landed, he didn't want to know about it. Roger called this Not Taking a Realistic Attitude."

I was just out in the garden visiting my dying azalea and attempting to mulch it when Kate watered me as though I were no more than a common garden mint.

PS - I am the #1 result if you google "interpretive scarf dance."