I mentioned earlier that I needed a bdsm icon. Finding one that was really apropos -- well, I had to make it myself. I'm pleased.
Saturday featured charleshaynes and myself traipsing across the city, first to Tartine's for breakfast. Tartine's. Oh, goddess, Tartine's. What to say? How about, when asked to produce a soy cafe au lait, they serve up something ambrosial (and entirely lacking in the vegetal taste of the Silk product that Starbuck's uses) in, not anything resembling a coffee mug, but more along the lines of a small soup bowl. How about rhapsodizing about the wonders of their croque monsieur? How about simply saying that Charles is one of two people who are allowed to feed me anything, and leading me to places like this is (one reason) why?
After that, we had some time to kill before seeing Harry Potter, so we ambled through the book section of the nearest Goodwill, where I succeeded in not acquiring another fifty pounds of books only because I didn't want to carry them home. :-)
Then, the movie, of which I said, "the less closely they stick to the books, the better the movies are." Good job on cutting the fat out of an appallingly fat book.
Sunday I reversed the Orycon damage to my bedroom, finished all the laundry, and drove up to Davis to retrieve Capucine and peer at Reyes (who is in much better shape). Palisades has taken happily to the free-fed beet pulp regime and is looking much more chipper. I have two pregnant mares, maybe three. o-O, as mizkit would say.