Nothing ground-breaking to say here. I'm just writing to stay in the habit of writing. It's ten-thirty on a chilling October morning. Bella's curled up against my leg while I have my laptop actually, literally upon the top of my lap. How many people actually write like that? My theory is that people started calling them notebooks because they felt silly never putting their laptops on their laps.
It's not a strong theory.
Aw, damn, I don't have Boards of Canada on this computer. Oh well, I've got Panda Bear, the Beta Band, and my recent attraction, the New Pornographers. I'm surprised at how much I like them.
Sunday morning. What do we have planned today? I think we have a brunch later today. I should wake up Rebecca because I think she won't enjoy sleeping in this late. We slept in to eleven yesterday and she was pretty put off about that, even though we did run around and achieve quite a lot.
To my left, there are two sets of blinds on two windows. The windows are counter-weighted and made of a lovely orangish-brown dark wood. The left blinds are fully lowered, the blinds on the right are drawn half-up. The slats are rotated perfectly vertically so the most light can come straight in. I have a friend who used to live in Madison, now is in Reno, who knows how to effectively and efficiently clean blinds like this. People don't think of how dirty their blinds are until someone comes in and says, "Hey, I clean venetian blinds," and then you start examining your own blinds with an uncharacteristically critical eye. My blinds are filthy, you think. How could I have let them go this far? Is it affecting my athsma?
Oops, Bella just heard something that requires her investigation. ...And there goes Toki to join her. Rebecca must be up. I'll go make coffee.