It's been a crazy busy weekend. Saturday was spent at the gym (both classes were delightfully full) and ferrying cars and drivers about. Don's car was in for work on the transmission (maybe) and wiring (possibly) and Mom's was in for the whole not-starting thing. Also, Don checked out a used CRV (I told him how much you love yours, harpiegirl4) which may or may not be awesome. Our regular mechanic will check it out this week.
Today was also spent at the gym (attendance was light in both classes; what goes on?). Don had his first personal training session. I messed up all over the place, I know, but I think I did a few things right. ::bah!:: Then it was back home and to gardening (got the first round of bulbs planted, failed to turn over soil in veggie garden) and laundry and ridiculously tasty slow cooker chicken. I ordered Christmas gifts online and played with Handsome Tom.
I also finished Pterry's Nation. I think I need to reread before I can talk about it coherently, but I will tell you this: it is gorgeous and funny and clever and dark, and it made me cry. It made me cry a couple of times, because of the turns of the story, but mostly it made me cry because it's so astonishingly unfair that a mind like Pratchett's is at the mercy of fucking disease.
And I had a lovely shot to the ego. As I was walking across the Shop Rite parking lot, I noticed an older gentleman watching me as he opened the door to his car.Ren Faire standards die hard: I made eye contact, nodded and smiled. "Ah," he smiled back. "A vision of loveliness!" Now, I was in jeans and an old black shirt, wild-haired and still a bit sweaty from the gym and feeling every one of my years. But I was feeling pretty good - rather fit and healthy and vital - and I no doubt projected that. Whatever. It made me smile.