Weekend spent. All gone. Rather quickly I thought.
Worked, my version, Saturday. Sunday, the part of the day not taken up by getting up late and lazy, lay about reading LeCarre. Yvonne adopting the same attitude with some needlework she has. Makes us old. Not the day, the look. Sitting out the front, cat on the grass in front of us.
Grid Systems/Josef Muller-Brockman arrived. Quick check to see if I have committed any glaring design crimes. Looks as though I may pass, may in fact be able to commit a few. The Golden Rectangle (1.618) sprinkled about within the book - lucky. A hangover from index trading (which requires an intimate knowledge of Fibonacci if you're to pick the turn points) manages to already show through into some of the work I have been doing already. How many places is that equation going to turn up?
Another grid layout - back to the local pool today, again with Yvonne. I was to have been redesigning the look of this poor long suffering blog this morning, but found it too be a too abrupt entry into the new week.
Gridded up and down the pool a number of times, Yvonne festooned with all manner of embellishments that have appeared from the children's collection. Flippers, kick boards, goggles. I feel underdressed for the occasion. All I do is float, by the least energetic means possible, from one end of the thing to the other, and back again.
Whatever rings your bells I guess.
Home, endorphins kick in and I think pleasant thoughts about people for the minimum amount of time required by law and revert back to my normal hideous self.
Surprising the people you think of when you're having an endorphin attack.
Monday. Yvonne books tickets to New Zealand via the internet and manages to get the receipt eaten by some over protective software. Handy. Recover receipt. With prejudice. Since when did Outlook Express decide what goes where?
Back to the only thing worth having on a Monday - the Holy Grail of design, freshly arrived, awaiting my full attention.
The redesign of the blog seems to have slipped away for the day.
Better to plan the week ahead, this week being the one where Yvonne is required to entertain her own children during all their waking hours (and plenty of their sleeping ones as well), transport them to where they simply must be: air cadets, tennis, friends, video stores, clothing stores, pizza stores. Feed them on the hour with the required amount of sugar and fat and be thankful when they don't bitch about being bored, underprivileged, over worked. A rare thing indeed.
Suitable for me to be well out of the way so as not to confuse the issue. It is amazing how attractive work, involving something away from the house, becomes. I manage to make the weekend work stretch to both days, all the better to avoid the sight of a grown woman ingratiating herself to her children, which is what happens.
An amazing sight.