For the next few days my entries will need to be made during the day. For some reason, the light in the computer room is not working, and neither is the fan it is attached to. Thus the room gets light and dark according to the passage of day. Add to the mix my none-too-strong eyes, and problems result. At this point in time, the easiest resolution is not to use the computer room when it is dark outside.

Until the lights are fixed, so much for the luxury of late-night journal writing; the thoughts must be bared in the light of day.

It is storming outside again, patchy, intermittent storms. Mother Nature can't seem to make up her mind whether she wants to rain or not, but she is being indecisive enough that I will not be able to work in the flowerbeds today like I'd wanted to.

Yesterday's purchases from a local nursery: two tiny pots each of French tarragon, standard chives, and Kentucky Colonel spearmint.

I've complained often in the past few months that my computer desk was not meeting my needs. Since I have bifocals, it helps my none-too-strong eyes to have my computer monitor correctly positioned. Having broken my right wrist twice, it's also in my best interest to keep the joint as relaxed as possible.

My old desk was like many things in this house—freely given to 'the newlyweds' to help them furnish their first apartment. Since I hate buying things on credit, I decided to wait until I could afford to buy the kind of desk I wanted, without having to put it on credit. A few weeks ago, I found the desk I had in mind. Small and compact, it is a corner desk with a raised platform for my 19" monitor and a keyboard platform that is at the right height for my wrists. Since it was one of those assemble-it-yourself numbers, I got it for right at $100.

I've been trying my best to have a quiet—almost boring—weekend. I think I've managed. Between laundry and cat care and visiting a few friends, what is there to tell? Not much.

A little better now, yep. Thanks, Heather, for dropping me an email. It was nice to get a human's input on all of this.

I've got thirty minutes to go, and then I can go home. I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do this evening. I doubt it will be computer-related. I got all the needed repotting done yesterday (yay for catnip and creeping thyme!) and did some pretty heavy trimming of the airplane plant. It should—hopefully—start recovering soon.

I am nesting, and it feels awfully good.

There is something in the ritual preparation for guests that is not unlike ritual preparation for war. (Except that you tend to like the outcome a lot more.) There's comfort in going over the list of things in your head, walking from room to room and checking things off as done.(Are there fresh sheets on the bed? Is the floor in the guest bedroom picked up, or have I left my books scattered all over that room again? Are there hangers in the closet and ample room on the closet floor for shoes? Did I remember to leave a water glass by the bathroom sink? Some magazines to read on the nightstand? Are there enough fresh towels in the bathroom, and did I remember to check to see if there's a spare roll of toilet paper?)

OUR HOUSE IS WIRED!

Jeff is in the living room, serving up mp3s from his computer [in here in the computer room with me] into the Mistress [our huge speaker system in the living room].

SWANK.

In here I've got a nice little set of Altec Lansings that do quite a serviceable job at aurally blasting mp3s in my general direction. I've got Three Doors Down cranked up to drown out whatever Jeff's listening to in the living room. Hopefully he won't get into a loudness pissing contest, because the NHT 2.5is will terrorize my little computer speakers and make them hide in the closet and beg for mercy.