Another weekend disappears.

Saturday afternoon we went to see Intolerable Cruelty, and I liked it very much. I'm a great fan of screwball comedies, and it was in many ways a classic screwball comedy with a thoroughly modern aspect. Quite enjoyable.

We also attempted to check our PO Box, but failed, because there was too much mail for the box (or so the yellow notice told us). Now we have to go to the post office sometime during business hours and pick up the mail. We're getting up early tomorrow to go before work. You might wonder why we have a PO Box so many miles from where we live. Heather's had the box for years, you see, since she lived and worked in Berkeley, and since there are waiting lists for PO boxes at all the branches, we're holding on to this one. We're in Berkeley pretty much every weekend anyway, so it's rarely a problem, except for times like this.

After the movie fair Heather and I sat in a café, and watched the rain pelt the sidewalks, and sipped drinks, and talked, and felt generally young, happy, alive, creative, and grand. We picked up a bottle of wine at a little grocery, then we went home for a quiet evening of reading, playing games, napping, drinking wine, and etc.

Today I worked around the house for most of the day. I did dishes and cleaned the kitchen, as I do every weekend. More importantly, I attacked the prodigious pile of unpacked boxes in the living room. I unpacked over a dozen boxes (some of them quite large), and found all sorts of nice things, including lots of canned goods, pasta, and miscellaneous kitchen stuff that we'd been vaguely missing. For the first time since we moved in, it's actually possible to sit at the nice table in the living room. There are no longer boxes stacked up against the wall, blocking the heating vents, or filling the space beneath the table. It's marvelous. The room is utterly transformed. There's still unpacking to do, but the remaining boxes are in closets or stacked in a curtained-off alcove, and are no longer in the middle of our living space. While I was unpacking, Heather was doing laundry and writing a (quite good) short story.

After the crazy cleaning all afternoon, I made chili. I like having chili in autumn -- it's warm, hearty, filling, and comforting. It's also simple. I made a fairly simple black bean chili, with half a bottle of chocolate stout poured in to make the flavor richer and faintly sweet. Very yummy, and there's enough leftovers for another meal.

All that house-cleaning was actually editing-avoidance behavior, but I finally gave in and got the next issue of Star*Line ready, and caught up on answering my electronic submissions. I'm only doing two more issues of Star*Line, after the one I finished tonight. I'm sad about quitting, but realistically, I need to cut back on my commitments. So it goes.

Now I've got all the copies of Little Gods signed, fondled, bubble-wrapped, packaged, and addressed. They'll go out tomorrow. (Except for the couple of people who ordered copies most recently; they'll have to wait for the next shipment.)

Huh. You know, I'm actually somewhat caught up. I've got some time before my reviews for A Certain Magazine are due, and nothing else is under deadline. Wow. Feels good. Now I can get back to the Frog novel.