Kevin’s Utilikilt* arrived last night.

I approve.

A great deal.

It may not be possible to overstate my approval.

It’s getting cold out here–we’re about to start getting frost–so his one complaint is that he may need some kind of knit cozy for certain cold-sensitive parts under the kilt.** (I volunteered to sacrifice one of my Fuzzy Socks, but he felt that might be crossing into a weird foot fetishy sort of place.) Other than that, it’s rockin’. 

Also because it’s getting cold, it was time for my annual virtual pilgrimage to I needed hand warmers, since my fingers are ALWAYS cold, and they have really fabulous fingerless gloves/arm warmers/wrist warmers/thingies. I am particularly fond of these, but I appear to have gotten one of the last pairs.

I seem to be noticing the weather more this year, as we ease into fall…granted, fall was WEIRD last year, and I recall eighty degree, swelteringly humid weather in December…maybe because we’re dealing with a four bedroom house instead of a wee little apartment. It’s just more cost-effective to put a space-heater in the bathroom and warm it up in the mornings rather than trying to keep the upstairs completely heated. (I have no need of a space-heater in the studio, as Gir provides plenty of foot-warming ability.) It all sort of takes me back to Minnesota, and before that to rural Oregon, when we’d crank up the stove and stand in front of that to get warm.

The fireplace downstairs, though, is rockin’. It’s not quite cold enough to use it regularly, and it doesn’t heat the upstairs very well (although the stairs get nice and toasty) but laying around on the couch, fireplace going, cat on one’s torso, boyfriend idily rubbing one’s foot, hot cup of chocolate with a shot of Bailey’s at one’s elbow, and Survivorman re-runs on TV is arguably the purest expression of domestic bliss known to humankind. (God, I love Survivorman.)

Alas, such idylls must end, because Diggers need to be done and the editor on Dragonbreath just came back to say that they changed the name back to the thing that it had been before they changed the name the first time, and now there’s a blank spot on the cover and it would be great for a squid tentacle, and can I fix that by yesterday?

Le sigh. Back to the grindstone…

*Bizarrely enough, as a top-level Boy Scout, Kevin is an honorary non-voting member of a particular Scottish clan (don’t ask me which one) and thus entitled to wear a specific tartan. Unfortunately, genuine kilts are bloody expensive, and while I am a huge fan of men in kilts, he wanted to test-drive the Utilikilt first. I can respect this.

**Yes, yes, Larry, if you wear anything under it, it’s a skirt…

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