clock

When my grandfather died, I got the cuckoo clock. A revolting thing, worth about $200, that goes well with the 1964 decor in my studio.
It's been on the floor in the doorway of my studio for a few months.
Tonight we took it out of the bag and spent a few hours fixing it since my dad shoved it in a plastic bag, not caring about the parts all getting stuck up in the interior mechanisms.

What a racket. Terrible noise. But I'm glad I have it.

(no subject)

My mother got me:


and a self-healing cutting mat.
and my brother got me a box of Boddingtons and a good bottle of Sake.

We all mostly behaved at brunch at The Burnsley. I'd never been there, even though I lived next door. Good food.