(no subject)

Can't believe it's June already. Summer goes by so quickly, and then it starts getting dark again. Right now it's still pretty light outside although the sun has gone down. Despite the wall of windows, it's darker in here. There's one light on to illuminate the church steeple; the other has been out for months now and I wonder whether they will replace it. Now that the trees have leafed out I mostly can't make out which one is Elynne's house over there. I just watered the high-maintenance plants: the hibiscus, the flat of basil, the cucumber vine.

Yep, I'm pretty darn sure it's a cucumber now that the fruit is four inches long. It was a volunteer from a terminally ill poinsettia that I won at the Spin the Bottle raffle in January. So now I have this cucumber and no idea what I'll do with it. There's only one fruit that's grown at all so far, which might be because Squeak likes to chew on the little ones. Maybe I'll pickle it. Or use it as a sex toy. Or, I suppose, both. Either will have to wait until the rest of the prickles are off.

I see that posting from Lynx lends itself well to streams of consciousness. I can only see maybe thirty characters of what I'd written before. I hope this isn't too much more disjointed than usual.

The Pinafore production was very amusing and cute, and I have to go Google now to find out if he really married his wet nurse or if they combined characters and caused that consequence.

(no subject)

He marries his wet nurse.

Huh.

And all that innuendo was really in there. My, that's something. The only thing they really added was Hebe's rejection in favor of the catamite-cousin, and that was mostly a matter of blocking. I do feel certain, of course, that the original Dick Deadeye wasn't a cutie in leather pants, but that was obviously an artistic decision.

And today's Secret Festival movie was light and amusing, thank goodness. We met a guy who'd written six pages about how bad the last one was, and we cheered him on accordingly.

To change topics entirely, I note that I don't think I can make my bed while Dizzy is sleeping so cutely on top of the bookcase that I've thrown my mattress pad over to dry. Hm. Sudden realization: Bedmaking will also be difficult if I don't put the sheets into the dryer very soon. Go do that now, Kylee.