Well, I didn't get over to the beach, but I did stop by a friend's house and gave her cat Ophelia some pastoral care. Ophie had her tail in a twist because her owners are taking care of A Dog; Oph and I are buds and she likes to crawl into my lap and tell me all her troubles. She is an ancient old girl with a voice like a squeaky gate but it is a pleasure to listen to her complaints.
So that helped. Plus I went to the Langley bookstore (Moonraker--great name, huh?) and picked up a Sister Fidelma mystery I hadn't yet read (Peter Tremayne is the author), as well as a couple of other murderous tales.
The landlord has reduced my rent temporarily while the repairs are being made and that's one reason I felt flush enough to splurge on a few books with little redeeming social value. Of course, Sister Fidelma is an education in early Irish law and a long-ago boyfriend and I once attended a Halloween party as Sister Fidelma and her sweetie Brother Eadulf. I looked great in a cowled robe and red wig!
And then I came home and found a useful comment from Judy and a sweetly comforting comment from LinguistFriend. I feel like I've been visited by angels.
I'm still a bit blah, but I've been soothed into not minding so much. Off to Vashon tomorrow for a couple of days. The sermon for Sunday is an oldie, "Our Love is Here to Stay", about relationships and how the stages of love relationships can be similar to those of connecting with a faith community. The fact that I'm doing a re-run is a symptom of the blahs, but I do feel some creative rumblings beginning, so I expect to be picking up speed here soon.