I am posting this while sitting in my wedding present from Chris: a hammock chair. (Mine looks kind of like that one, but without the hangy things on the front.) Chris gave it to me two years ago, but we never had a place to hang it, and we kept feeling nervous about asking our landlords if we could put a giant hook in the ceiling. But, since the flood and since they started stressing that they want us to treat this place like out home, I've been wondering if we could perhaps convince them that this was a good idea. Today, I worked up the courage and went upstairs, bearing freezer jam and the dish that held yesterday's beef curry. And they thought it was a good idea, after I explained what I was doing.
And so we bought a nice wall sensor, and found all the joists in the office ceiling. Happily, there was one exactly where I wanted to hang my hammock (in the little nook beside my desk). Two hooks and a lot of work later, here I am.
And it feels really strange to be here. It makes me homesick for that old apartment with Meg, with her hammock chair hanging in the corner of the living room. It makes me miss the Wee Girlie, who used to cuddle with me in Meg's hammock chair, her tiny fingers feeling the strings, and her little voice whispering "Whee! Whee!" every time we rocked back and forth. It feels right that I'm working on the old Lappy. (Dear new computer: please arrive. We could be such good friends.) I'm also really glad that Meg and Karl are moving closer to me soon.
The funny thing is that it really makes me feel like reading. Even though I strongly suspect that I will fall asleep immediately, upon trying to read in the hammock chair. That's always what happened in Meg's chair.