Lump.

I was prepared to be diligent today and get through some of the chores that are piling up. First and foremost is sneaks for the boy. I figured I could round out some shopping and get the eyeglasses adjusted in the same trip. The boy, however, was having none of that. I swear he's even more of a homebody than I am. He declined and since I had asked and not told that was perfectly within the rights of fair play.

Instead I've piddled a bit - fixed the leaf sucker drawstring, watered plants and fed the birds, ordered an ez pass and now I'm contemplating my next choice. There's tons of clothes and boxes in the sewing room to sort. I could suck some leaves from the front garden or I could repaint the firebowl screen or I could put the chairs and bowl away for the season. I'm waffling on the last one because I was hoping for one more fire. Perhaps it's not to be.

I'm sort of vaugely hoping the man will get back from whatever lousy movie he picked for the week and then I could go out. On the other hand I don't really feel like I want to go out. The urge to be a lump is pretty darn strong.