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Summer -- as much of one as I'm going to get, with the exception of ten days in July -- starts tonight. I went to school, got my usual laptop out of the cupboard, and went over my final project with R, who was in the same accounting class as me last year. (She's very nice, if a bit reticent, and we ended up sitting next to each other this term. It was nice to get to know her a little better.) We reviewed our projects, one transaction at a time, then turned them in.
She went home; I stuck around. I'd brought about ten slices of white bread with me to feed to the rabbits. After I turned in my project to Dad, I closed up my bag and went out to the center of campus to socialize with the beasts for a bit. There are some feral cats on campus, too, and one of them was stalking a baby bunny by one of the bungalows. I kept hearing a noise that sounded like an apple or a stone hitting the grass; I think it was the rabbits themselves, warning each other that there was a predator nearby. (The baby got away, BTW. Poor kitty. But I would have said poor bunny, if the cat had been successful.) I fed the bread to the rabbits and went back to the classroom. Surfed LJ and e-mail until the last student was finished, then we packed up and went out for pie. I bought; I usually offer, and Dad almost always refuses unless there's a reason, like a thank-you for him doing my taxes. Taking my teacher out for dessert was one of those occasions. In addition to my pie (I took about 2/3 of it home; it's very rich), I ordered a huge salad for tomorrow's lunch.
So it was a good evening. Good company, yummy pie, and summer beckons. Now that school is out, I stopped by Target and picked up a copy of Twilight. It seems to be about a 3:1 ratio; for every three people on my flist who like it, there's one who loathes it. I'm going to start reading tomorrow. Cradle Robber's daughter (she's 13) read it, loved it, and passed it on to her mother, who loves it, too. They've both been enthusiastically encouraging me to read it for months. Cradle Robber knew I'd love Harry Potter, and she's let me borrow other books that I've really enjoyed, so while she doesn't understand me entirely, she knows when I definitely will like something.
Edit: this is the first time she's been wrong. It's CRAP.
She went home; I stuck around. I'd brought about ten slices of white bread with me to feed to the rabbits. After I turned in my project to Dad, I closed up my bag and went out to the center of campus to socialize with the beasts for a bit. There are some feral cats on campus, too, and one of them was stalking a baby bunny by one of the bungalows. I kept hearing a noise that sounded like an apple or a stone hitting the grass; I think it was the rabbits themselves, warning each other that there was a predator nearby. (The baby got away, BTW. Poor kitty. But I would have said poor bunny, if the cat had been successful.) I fed the bread to the rabbits and went back to the classroom. Surfed LJ and e-mail until the last student was finished, then we packed up and went out for pie. I bought; I usually offer, and Dad almost always refuses unless there's a reason, like a thank-you for him doing my taxes. Taking my teacher out for dessert was one of those occasions. In addition to my pie (I took about 2/3 of it home; it's very rich), I ordered a huge salad for tomorrow's lunch.
So it was a good evening. Good company, yummy pie, and summer beckons. Now that school is out, I stopped by Target and picked up a copy of Twilight. It seems to be about a 3:1 ratio; for every three people on my flist who like it, there's one who loathes it. I'm going to start reading tomorrow. Cradle Robber's daughter (she's 13) read it, loved it, and passed it on to her mother, who loves it, too. They've both been enthusiastically encouraging me to read it for months. Cradle Robber knew I'd love Harry Potter, and she's let me borrow other books that I've really enjoyed, so while she doesn't understand me entirely, she knows when I definitely will like something.
Edit: this is the first time she's been wrong. It's CRAP.
