On the up side, the new dryer is very shiny, and the area under both washer and dryer is squeaky-clean. And all before lunchtime.
Also! After I dropped markgritter at the airport, I had breakfast and went back to bed. I slept for two more hours! It was lovely. I could no longer intone, "Braaaaains!" and have someone believe I was an actual zombie. It's a very fine thing. (This is one of the drawbacks of being Scandahuvian: we can't go outside for more than approximately 15 seconds without sunblock, including cloudy days, and just one morning of the alarm going off at 4:50 will make us seem to be some flavor of horrific undead creature. On the up side, we know a million things to do with herring and will teach you if you're nice to us. The fact that there don't seem to be legends about vampiric fixation on herring bears testimony to the fact that we mostly stayed home after that embarrassing yet fruitful period of pillaging your coastlines. Because you know Sven Forkbeard went shambling around the color of skim milk, cutting people's heads off and attempting to take their herring, when he hadn't gotten enough sleep due to Olaf Bignose's snoring back on the boat.)
The list is very detailed this week. While I tackle some of the list items, I'm turning phonemes over in my head. Preparatory exercises, one supposes. In the meantime, there will be brussels sprouts for lunch.
No, that's a good thing.
*Do not leave your skivvies in my pantry. The Narnians don't want them, either.