That thud that you make when you are an introvert and you have spent a couple days with more people than usual and it’s really really fun and you don’t want them to leave and then… Actually it’s kind of a ka-whomp. Thud is when you are drinking whine and talking about your kids and you decide to go for a beach walk and end up suddenly sitting on your you-know-what (thud) in the water. Although I have thudded a few times in my life, the thud I am referring to here involves The Commander and Radical Betty. There is a Thud Club. Wanna join?

This morning was not much fun at the moomincabin. Although I was annoyed by the behavior of the other people there, really it was meeeeee who was the problem. I could have solved the whole problem by packing up the Ninja and heading in to town to do my errands instead of waiting around until the Blueberry Harvesters left. Remove KW? Problem solved.

For I do not know what reason, I felt so freeeeee taking off all by myself in the Ninja this morning. Errands? Nothing exciting. A few things to the recycling center, mailed The Landfill property tax bill, checked out the laundromat (still there, doesn’t open until 9 AM????), drive by The Comm’s house, Glen’s. Boy oh boy, I cannot wait for Meijer to open up a store in Siberia. I wanted fresh basil leaves. Nowhere to be found. Not only has fresh basil become a grokkery store staple (where I live anyway), it isn’t even all that hard to grow in these northern climes. *I* can even grow it. I bet Woldemort probably had fresh basil but I refuse to shop there in Siberia. I hate the parking lot, the store makes me dizzy, and you always have to wait in line forever to check out. I bet Meijer will carry it. I can’t wait.

Back out to the moomincabin for chores: dishwashing, bathroom cleaning, stripping beds for a trip to the laundromat tomorrow, scrambling dinner together. By definition, chores are never done but I got enough done that I could sit on the beach / bank all afternoon and that’s what I did although I was *freezing* for a couple of hours. By the time The Grand Poohbah came down, I had un-grumpified myself enough that I could actually engage in conversation. (I think, Pooh may have a different opinion.) Hot down here now but time to go up and scramble dinner into the oven, etc.

The Blueberry Harvesters? 12-14 miles, depending on who you talk to. ONE GALLON of blueberries. And one tick. So far. Bonus? With much trepidation, KW logged into the work time off thingy to put her upcoming vacation days into it and found that she had something like twice as much time left as she expected. Yahoo!

P. S. Clankity bang. The Cognitive Dissonance when Porta Potties arrive in a place that could once have been called Outhouse City!

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