It wouldn’t be a proper morning unless Chaucer bolts his breakfast and immediately ejects it. Today is a proper morning, I guess. Proper, improper, whatever. It’s Monday, we’re awake, and out of bed.
We had a weekend. I put clothes on and assumed my human form so we could go to the farmer’s market. There wasn’t anything there that I needed to have. While I saw some stuff that was pretty much my style (or easily turned into something I could use), I knew it was overpriced and probably came from someplace like Shein. I saw some things I’d have bought for Mom, but I’ve seen nicer stuff selling at about the same price in other shops. We also skipped the Beavertail food truck. I know better than to fill my body with any amount of deep fried dough and expect to make the drive home without shitting myself.
Other than the trip out, we took turns with Tears of The Kingdom for most of the day. We brought the Switch over to Shady Acres and Shawshank played over there for a little while. I didn’t do any of the crafting I planned, although I did talk to Shawshank‘s mother about making bias tape binding for the technicolor dreamcoat. I slapped some dye on my head when we came home, and settled in for a few hours of games and TV before bed.
Shawshank‘s home today, and it’s a proper sloth day in the house. We’re going to have some brunch, and I should cut some fabric.
