![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Well, the train didn't cost $72, it cost $84. Mutter mutter. However, I did get a seat to myself in both directions.
The weekend was nice. I did need a change of scenery, and that was what I got. I didn't do a whole heck of a lot, either; I mostly sat around and worked on cross stitch and finished a book I was reading. I could have gone sailing yesterday, but inertia set in and I decided to stay home instead. Besides, it would have been cold out there and I didn't have any clothes warmer than khaki pants with me.
I got back home at 12:15 this morning and promptly went to bed. I think I got almost enough sleep, but not quite. For some reason, every time I go visit my parents, I wind up having really vivid dreams, if not actual nightmares. I slept in that bed from the time I got my own room until I went to college, but for some reason, every time I sleep in it now, I dream. Weirdness.
I talked my mom into letting me borrow the CDs of The Play of Daniel and The Play of Herod. Getting copies of those would make me a very happy camper. Even if they are recordings of bad recordings. I don't care; I grew up with the Play of Daniel.
My back is complaining at me, but I think that's because of all the books I brought back with me. Now I really do have to clean out my bookshelf some. I'm still debating what to do about the 5-book series, of which I like the first book and the last book, but not the three in the middle. I hate people who wind up selling only part of a series to a used book store, especially since the ones they don't sell are always the ones I haven't read yet. Oh well.
Now I have the Play of Herod stuck in my head. I wonder how many odd looks I'd get for playing very old semi-Gregorian chant in the office? Maybe I'll try it anyway, after lunch when it's quieter in here.
Today's poem:
As I was going down the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today...
I think he's with the CIA.
--Author unkno
The weekend was nice. I did need a change of scenery, and that was what I got. I didn't do a whole heck of a lot, either; I mostly sat around and worked on cross stitch and finished a book I was reading. I could have gone sailing yesterday, but inertia set in and I decided to stay home instead. Besides, it would have been cold out there and I didn't have any clothes warmer than khaki pants with me.
I got back home at 12:15 this morning and promptly went to bed. I think I got almost enough sleep, but not quite. For some reason, every time I go visit my parents, I wind up having really vivid dreams, if not actual nightmares. I slept in that bed from the time I got my own room until I went to college, but for some reason, every time I sleep in it now, I dream. Weirdness.
I talked my mom into letting me borrow the CDs of The Play of Daniel and The Play of Herod. Getting copies of those would make me a very happy camper. Even if they are recordings of bad recordings. I don't care; I grew up with the Play of Daniel.
My back is complaining at me, but I think that's because of all the books I brought back with me. Now I really do have to clean out my bookshelf some. I'm still debating what to do about the 5-book series, of which I like the first book and the last book, but not the three in the middle. I hate people who wind up selling only part of a series to a used book store, especially since the ones they don't sell are always the ones I haven't read yet. Oh well.
Now I have the Play of Herod stuck in my head. I wonder how many odd looks I'd get for playing very old semi-Gregorian chant in the office? Maybe I'll try it anyway, after lunch when it's quieter in here.
Today's poem:
As I was going down the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today...
I think he's with the CIA.
--Author unkno
