Woke up this morning feeling kind of yucky, but decided to go to Palo Alto to find a better fountain pen. All the Lamys I have used have leaked. The Rotring clogs. Let's try this Cross. It's black and heavy, fine nib. It takes (of course) only Cross cartridges, but I got a bottle of a nice avocado-colored ink. We'll see how this goes. So far, so good. Smooth line, easy to grip. We'll see how it goes.
While we were at University Art, I bought a couple of calligraphy nibs. They're simple and of an extremely fine point, very simple. I also bought a contraption called an "Xtra Hands" that consists of a heavy weighted base and arms with alligator clips and a magnifying glass. When I got home, I successfully cut down the cufflink bases I got at Global Bead a few weeks ago. I used the Xtra Hands thing to hold them together while I soldered them. So...the upshot is a pair of beautiful new fountain pen nib cufflinks for my french cuffed shirts. I also finished that nice pin with the flower hook for the lorgnette.
Then I looked up and realized that my house is a pit. There is not a single room in my house that's anything close to orderly. I ran around the house filling up trash bags and putting things away and running loads of laundry and dishes. And all the while, Farscape is playing in the background. All of the conversations that the characters are having are flying around my mind, and I'm carrying baskets of laundry around.
I hand a basket of laundry to Peaches, and she takes out a pair of underpants and puts it onto my head. I think about what would happen if you replace the concept of "world" with the concept of "underpants" in any kind of science fiction.
Brave New Underpants....Stranger in Strange Underpants....."these underpants were a paradise - your kind made a desert of them!"...."In your underpants, no one can hear your scream".......The Waistband.......
And then it stopped being science fiction.
Disneypants - the Happiest Place on Earth!.....The Pirates of Ben's Pants...
There are pants of laughter and pants of tears
There are pants of hopes and pants of fears
There's so much that we share,
Like our own underwear
They're just small pants after all!
Third grade, sure, but I'll bet you giggled.