In The Basement

I had a lovely day over at the grs yesterday. Got some good boobah time in, though poor wee Ruby wasn't feeling well. We ate some delicious wheat-free blueberry pancakes. Drank a fair amount of coffee. Grace read us some excruciating passages from a Trixie Belden book. Then Grace and I hied ourselves to the basement, where we put together another shelf, shifted some stuff around and had something that resembled the following conversation:

"So, have you figured out who put that octopus in your mailbox?"
"Nah, I'm not quite sure. No one's claimed it yet."
"Megan. It's a squid! It's not an octopus! It has 5 legs!"
"HaHA! It was YOU! But it's got a round head. Squids have pointy heads. I think an octopus is more likely to 5 legs than a squid is to have a round head."

We never came to a consensus. But I love my squid just the same.

Then there was CRAFTERNOON. During which I started knitting new gauntlets. Beforehand, Grace asked me what my craft was going to be.

"My gauntlets are all pilly and falling apart and I knit them on too big needles. So I'm going to start new gauntlets."

"Huh," she said. "Gonklettes." Because she is my kind of person.

This evening, just before class, I was walking down the hall at the 'gonk chatting with Eric when I heard someone calling. "Miss, your mitten. You dropped your mitten." The poor nice man had to repeat himself a couple of times.

I was surprised when I turned around. It was clearly not a mitten.

"My gauntlet," I murmured. Then looked up, smiled and thanked the very kind man. He picked it up off the floor and handed it to me. More smiles. I turned back around and tried to figure out where I was in the interrupted conversation. We walked a step or two.

"Gauntlet," Eric said.
"Yes," I confirmed. "That was incorrect classification of winterwear."

That mitten man was very nice. But not my kind of person.