I spent most of today doing computer chores. Spreadsheets and that sort of tripe. Some background; my husband works part-time at a large hospital and does tax preparation year 'round. He is an "enrolled agent". Isn't that a sweet thing to have on your business card? Enrolled Agent....Bond...James Bond. Sigh, back to reality. It is almost April 15th, thank you, Jesus.
We went outside and DH smoked his pipe and I sat downwind and crocheted. I just taught myself how to and, while it's most irritating, I am determined to make something reasonably clever. I hate cutesy crafts so I have my work cut out for me. The day was stunning. Warm, with a wonderful breeze bringing all sorts of unidentifiable scents. I felt drunk on the day. The only thing that kept it from having angels singing hosannas and playing their harps were the little microscopic bugs that felt they had to nest in my nose, eyes and ears. Ah well, the devil is in the details.
After M left for work, I made some absolutely revolting baby poop green soap. (The following are private soapmaker's terms and not to be understood by the average person, so don't think you are suddenly trying to read Greek) It accelerated to pudding before I could mix my swirls. I stubbornly did it anyway, mixed French green clay into the base and glopped the swirl colors into the pot, went through them with my spatula and poured into the mold. Well, I like to call it pouring but we all know it was glopping. Banged the heck out of it on the counter and it promptly paid me back by overheating. As it started to bulge in the middle, I threw a fan on it and smugly subdued the ungrateful mess. I poured a margarita, played a game of internet backgammon, knocked the socks off of a French "expert" and I will not look at the soap until tomorrow. Lovely day.