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cookbooks So today my Guru’s husband was coming over to put up shelves.  These are my cookbooks, which have been stacked in the corner of the dining room since June, waiting for these shelves to be their home.  I was all ready for this.  I had the shelf board, the brackets, the hollow wall anchor bolts (bought specially from Lowe’s).  It was exciting.  Unfortunately, the hardware did not cooperate.  Instead of expanding with little metal wings that would securely hold everything in place, the anchor bolts just twisted in on themselves, turning into deformed little lumps of metal.  Arrrrgh!  Sigh.  Now I have to go back to Lowe’s and get cranky with the Customer Service people about this.  Dangit…

teacups2 However, I have otherwise been quite happily domestic today.  I made myself tea with my breakfast instead of coffee (always a sign of a relaxed Bernadette).  I puttered around the downstairs while Guru’s hubby was working.  I watered the plants on the front porch, started a load of laundry, repotted the rosemary topiary I got in Milwaukee in its new cobalt blue pot, watered the irises, looked at the weeds that are starting to come up between them, and decided to leave them for another day.  I was feeling so domestic that I even ironed some tablecloths and the napkins we used on Wednesday.  Usually I try to live my life so as to never have to iron anything, but when you have a collection of vintage linens, sometimes this is not possible.  I haven’t read much of anything today, but I sat up late last night finishing Avalon by Stephen R. Lawhead, so that’s ok.

I’m not dancing at all this weekend, except for possibly practice session (if I can get away from my Uncle’s 50th birthday party in time).  Somehow this just doesn’t seem right.  Hmmm.  Although both Bounce and Mai promised that I could live vicariously through them as they dance at Wicked Lindy Weekend.  So I suppose that will have to do