I finished my green tea frappuccino handspun socks last night while watching spooky movies and listening to the crazy insane rain and lightning outside. I threaded the ends in this morning

The movies were the remake of The Fog, which I didn't like nearly as much as the original - I tend to like my horror movies cheesy and low budgeted, and Dark Water, which was actually pretty good but not heart in my throat scary, which is a feeling I should probably avoid - it comes awfully close to panic attack feelings. I also watched Closer which I thought was creepy but in a whole other way. What a cynical little bedroom drama that turned out to be.

I swear someone was shooting off fireworks at one in the morning on my street in the middle of a heavy rain. Or someone's fireworks got wet in the rain and they went off. They do that right? It wasn't a gun, I know this. Guns don't make high-pitched squeals before they pop.

Have we replenished the water table yet?

Today my socks and I are watching a PBS documentary about Bob Dylan directed by Martin Scorcese (you probably know Scorcese's very good friends with Robbie Robertson who used to play in The Band behind Mr Bob but I can't miss an opportunity to be a smarty pants - or smarty socks.)