Shaky

Ergh. Am emotionally exhausted.

We finally got to have a Friday-night-movie date night last night, to see Source Code (which I highly recommend, am in now officially in lerv with Duncan Jones), and then when we got home we had a big fight about something stupid, so that bedtime was late and terse until we snuggled up against the cold and said sorry. Fights don't last long, but the shockwaves linger a while. We're not fighting types, and certainly don't find them invigorating like some couples do.

Then I woke up and went to the local farmers' market and bought nice things, including two big yummy slabs of Amore cakes (Autumn Spice and Lemon Buttermilk & Raspberry, for enquiring minds). I ran into a family friend and was told a distressing thing about the health of ff's spouse, even closer family friend, then walked around in a daze for a while. When I got home I discovered that I'd left the cake box somewhere at the markets, Ceiling Cat knows where. Tracking the memory of what my hands were holding, I think I put the box down either at the fish stall or the herb stall. In either case, no-one yelled or ran after me to pass on the box. I hope whoever finds it enjoys the excellence of Sam's cooking.

So breakfast was still nice, but cake-free, which left me feeling not only wobbly but bereft. Now I'm going to the studio for a while to distract myself, and Colonel Duck is kindly coming up from Bega to do some chainsaw gardening for me. By the end of the weekend I'm hoping to have finished bookshelves to paint, and new bits of the garden to work over. That will solve the shakies, fingers crossed.

Oh, forgot to say that Bernice is back in town. Go and say hello. Play nice, childrens.
PS: Her post seems to have disappeared. I will hassle her. Maybe it's Blogger's fault, they've been half-arsed all week.