There was nothing wrong with the washer. Yet.

I’ve been putting more miles on the van with this marching band stuff than I have in ages.

We were catching up on Daily Show and Colbert Report. The guy who wrote the book on China told Jon Stewart about how religion was growing over there as communism became less stringent, and hubby and I wondered why this was supposed to be a good thing. Colbert interviewed Michael Behe, and missed numerous opportunities to rake him over the coals.

I still haven’t caulked, spackled, or primed. I have too much laundry to fold in the room, so I can’t get to the walls.

I’m waiting for two different masons to show up, since the first two never did. I might have to learn to pour concrete myself at this rate.

It’s so miserable out here that my glasses fog up as soon as I leave the house. I wish it would rain and get it over with!

So, with so many things left to do, and so much in the world that irritates me, I’m going to take a break and play with my clay and make a piece or two of jewelry. I’ll feel a little more refreshed and ready to deal with all the other stuff.

We all got up early. Carolyn has her computer class all day today. Audrey was going to have a band rehearsal at 9AM, but it was changed to tomorrow. I got a call last night from Jersey Coast Appliance saying my washer repairman would be here between 1 and 3 – and it was too late to reschedule the vet appointment I’d already made for 2:15. (I had already had to reschedule the girls’ checkup at the doctor, and the landscaper didn’t call or show up AGAIN. . .) So, hubby’s working from home. I need to get things cleared out of the laundry room so there’s space to work on the machine, and a bit of nailing and spackling and caulking might be worthwhile today, too. Bleh. I wish I had my very own home repair fairy. I’d leave out a bowl of milk at night, and one more room would get done while I slept.

I had a dream last night that I found Rhonda’s body at the bottom of the pond. That was pretty disturbing. Still no sign of her. Tonight it’ll be a week since we last saw her.

Must. . .motivate. . .self. . .

I tried to convince hubby that we need one of these. Unfortunately, 8 feet is not wide enough for him to swing hot glass, but this is some of the most wonderful recycling I’ve ever read about:

Far more than just a box

Those ugly old things stacked up outside IKEA in Elizabeth could become all kinds of wonderful stuff! Eight feet wide, eight feet deep, and 20 feet long is a good size for so many things, but just imagine. . .

Picture the robot storage in the movie “I, Robot”, except that it’s all studio space! Imagine being able to set it up so things could be secured, and you could take your studio wherever you went! You could set up entire artist colonies like campgrounds, where they could park for a while, work, teach, sell, do studio tours, then go someplace else to do the same thing and not have to pack and unpack! Make art trains that travel the country!

OK, now I’m getting way too carried away. They’d make good sheds, too. Or guest rooms for people you don’t like. Or barns or chicken coops. Or almost anything but rusting piles of boxes in an industrial landscape.