. . .or not.

Listening: Bob Walters, The Champion (various years).

Neither started nor finished anything this weekend.  Sigh.  I'm not kidding--I feel like I spent most of the weekend keeping the cat warm.  She actually fell asleep on my head last night.  Well, this morning, about half an hour before I had to get up.  It's a miracle I made it to work at all.

I went to IKEA on Friday and came home with wooden hangers, a child's toy cup set that will look awesome with my Fiesta tea set, and a pair of heavy pressed-glass Pokal goblets that are totally reminiscent of mid-19th century wine glasses (also here, in green).  Notice that the kids' glasses and the real goblets match.  Ha ha!  Also, notice that I actually look for pseudo-Victorian-revival glassware.  I'm that kind of nerd.  I wanted to look for these awesome retro folding chairs but didn't see them; I'll have to go back.

Saturday was the Houston History Conference.  We hosted a table, sort of, and went to a series of mini-lectures.  Note to selves: Next year, bring candy.  Everyone else did, and nobody believes that we didn't because we're part of the Medical Center and probably shouldn't be feeding people candy; they all know we just didn't think of it.  I suggested mini-boxes of raisins, the way dietarily-righteous moms used to do on Hallowe'en.

Sunday disappeared in a vortex of failed cooking experiment and housekeeping.  I did attempt to sew something, briefly, but Mispickel attacked it and tore the bejesus out of my big toe, so I gave up and took a nap.  Motivation is overrated.

I woke up later and decided I was bored, so I went to Goodwill to look for ugly bedsheets to use to test patterns.  I found three: One good white one (for a blouse, maybe); one beige with leaf print, circa 1993; one white with hot pink lattice and tiny palm trees.  I also found a pair of brown leather ankle booties, a Beanie Baby poodle who looked almost as sad and lonely as a real rescue dog, and a cute not-old-but-old-looking milk pitcher.