Woke this morning to the crack of thunder and pelting rain. Water was coming in the back door. Jeff went out and restored a drain path for the runoff, and we avoided a full catastrophe. The forecast? Why, more rain, of course.
Marcel was shaking his head this morning. I crept up and took a quick swipe of his ear with a q-tip. Ew. Vet has a 5 pm opening--poor old Mr. Moo will have a very special afternoon. (Marcel is today's LJ icon.)
I fell asleep so hard last night--face down, crossways on the bed, fully clothed. I had a dream that we went to a party at Beth's house, which was on a lake in Arizona. There was a storm, and lightning hit a turrety-looking thing on the house. It caught fire. The party broke up right quick after that. Nobody stayed to help with the dishes, even. McCauley Culkin was there--he had some kind of floaty device in the lake because he wasn't a good swimmer. Van Morrison showed up early, but disappeared and I didn't see him again. He had grown a beard and it did NOT suit him.
Leonard, if you see this, I am friending you. So there.
