I am all about Duran Duran today, replacing this morning's unfortunate early morning obsession with Culture Club. Yes, Mr. Manners asserted, I really do want to hurt you, especially if you don't stop humming that song.

More or less.

I had no great plans for the weekend, and even the littlest plans seem to be met with impediment after impediment. Pool? No, something is wrong with the pump, but the pool service (normally nice DUDES) couldn't be bothered to return my phone call to tell me so. I was raking the yard, and hit a yellow jackets nest - handily dispatched by Mr. Manners. So no more yardwork.

It's too nice to be inside. So I've compromised and opened windows, and now the house is a mite too stuffy for anyone's comfort. The dogs have protested by going to sleep, and even my eyelids are drifting a bit as I write. The siren sound of chores: the la la la of the laundry, the do do doing of the dishes, the cl cl cleaning of the bedroom all have become a quiet music in my mind as I contemplate the sweetest thing of all.

The afternoon nap.