Hey! Part of it.

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While I didn't do the dishes, I did drain and move them.  After getting the trash out.  I thought I only had one bag.  I was wrong.  There... were two bags already out?  One big one?  Anyway.  With the one I had to put out, more volume than substance, and, yet, between what was in there and what I put in, the barrel was topping to three quarters full.  So out it went.

Then, a shower.  No trim, no shave.  I look shaggy, but I smell clean enough for even a picky woman, probably.  For an old dog.  Then I made it to the post office, and got a card and the final, I think, part of the table topping layers... a heat resistant batting.  Though... I may want a better cotton topping.  I have a muslin, that will work.  But I am thinking of a crisp cotton, like a poplin?  Some such, to make a drum-top tight final layer... like on really good ironing boards.

While I consider things, for myself and my home, I don't want super masculine things, I don't need that.  But, I really never did like prissy stuff.  How about... handsome... as a target.  Oh, there are handsome women.  Not quite pretty, but... fashionable, elegant, well tended, good just not pretty, or cute, or sexy features.  But, for the most part, handsome is in the mens' department.  Though, stretching from there into grunge, industrial, and such, isn't too far a stretch.  Not handsome, maybe, but... more masculine.  That... is what I am looking at, for kit I make for the house.

Even mother isn't... too prissy.  She does like pretty, even sexy if that... no.  Not FROM me.  But I can try pretty, maybe even just a bit of frill.  She has always been a girly girl, in the right way of that.  She likes being pretty, feminine, if not overboard.  It's always a balancing act, man or woman.  And... you can't really win.  It's a biological gimmick that is all about, initially, attracting a mate, then keeping that mate.  But, failing that, it's still about being social enough to not be outright rejected, and, yet, being individual.  The perfect female, oddly, is a medical issue with some males.  If appearances were the facts.  Oddly, the reverse isn't true.  Scrambled women never make handsome men.  Still, for most, there are just portions and parts, we have to seam together, to make sense to ourselves and those we would have an interest in.  Dames are the only ones I can imagine.  Thankfully, they see... what they want, and need, to see when looking at me.  Little else matters to a woman, just ask her.  If her eyes are satisfied... though they not be purely looking at the physical, they see with... various sorts of eyes... then they will go with it, if... I would go after one.  Just the facts.  Just haven't found a single woman, who is... right, and ready.  Not lately.  Then again, I haven't been out.  Bleh.

Anywhile!  I did get some things done, and plan to do a bit more.  Life isn't all bad.  It is 57 out there, last I looked, and sunny.  A wonderful day, to be absolutely honest.  Sleep was good, coffee and else was okay, more breakfast would be nice, like eggs and corned beef hash.  Or... I don't know.  I'll wait to ten to get going again.  Not that I need rest, but timing issues are what they are.  Later.