Discovered totally unfamiliar box of heavy glass tumblers in the basement. Not mine, must be the tenants', why have I no memory of them from when I organized those shelves on my return from Japan? (Because my memory famously sucks.) Discover also vaguely familiar box of dinner plates, dessert plates and bowls from the family house, wrapped in styrofoam peanuts and paper. Could keep them for myself instead of using my mismatched yard sale collection, but know I shall never host dinner parties for more than two people. Shall put both out for the Diabetes pick-up this week, but might borrow next door's dishwasher first to remove the dust of decades from the plates at least.
Have retrieved my signed copy of The Invisible Library. Evidently cousin's daughter gave cousin an almost full precis of the plot, which then decided cousin to read it. Some people clearly don't mind spoilers.
End of April, furnace still on at night, duvet and wool blanket and sometimes a third quilt just for the nesting principle; still in hoodie and flannel pants and socks and sleep balaclava, still with four beanbags about my person. (Beanbags don't stay as warm as hot water bottles; actually, these beanbags don't stay as warm as my old scorched ones either.) Not complaining: sleep in cold weather is one of my major pleasures and will end soon enough.