(no subject)

[flemmings]

My down the street neighbours put out a bunch of children's toys outgrown by their single and cherished child, with whom I have a speaking acquaintance from the time *she* put out some of her own toys. One was a Thomas the Tank Engine riding toy. (I suspect some basement cleaning here-- riding toys look to be six or eight years in her past.) I was so tempted to take it, if only to see the internecine warfare its arrival would have sparked in the toddler section. But it was gone by the time I got back from buying light bulbs, and probably a good thing.

Then I discover there are translations on the net of The Two Whiners novel, the Brat Queen of Kyou, and Second Taiki. Someone has saved me an awful lot of time. Someone is also a helluva lot better at Japanese than I, but then most people are.

Then I Cleaned All The Things. Then I went to the laundromat so my lungs could recover from Cleaning All The Things, where I encountered my brother, of all people, who still hasn't bought a new dryer. And we had a discussion about just where all the dust comes from when there's only one or two people in the house shedding hair and skin cells.

Comments

[incandescens]

My flat generates dust, too. I don't know how it does it. (I mean, I can understand the stray bits of thread these days, but the dust . . .)