Temperature: has been going up and down, freezing and thawing, as we ski and skate on the roads and pavements.
Eating: my heart out, Hubby is going to Paris and I am not!
Drinking: Would it help, do you think, un peu de champagne? (See above.)
Listening: to Mello for one, and OMG Finland, Käärijä aka the Shirtless Berserker? Brilliant.
Watching: holiday reels. Good times.
Reading: Richard Osman’s The Bullet That Missed, finally!, the third book in the Thursday Murder Club series. And if you’re going who-shot-who-in-the-what-now, look him up, these books are an absolute delight. [Ron having a massage; I laughed out loud. Richard, you nailed it.]
Writing: not a word about the climate crisis, food crisis, refugee crisis or any other crisis for that matter for a while. Oh, I heard that. That sigh of relief. But you are a batch of smart cookies, you’ve connected the dots and those crises because they most certainly connect and circle back and are different manifestations of the same problem.
Thinking: hard for the next few weeks. I have to do some research, study for a bit. One of my favorite things so yay, but I’ll have to focus on that plus I’ll be in charge of Casa Dita while at it; good thing the wee ones are now full-sized ones. [I reserve the right to pop by unannounced.]
Feeling: the need to get in touch while I’m away? I am all ears in comments (which don’t often make it online because you know what they usually entail, but I will parse through them) and then there’s this thing called email, lost on the young, I know, but still very useful when taking care of business, so gmail me at ms.ditaparker and we’ll talk. Now go love someone and shine on. Muah.
Monday, March 6, 2023
Gone thinkabout
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