First, the people we tried to palm our old car off onto found out how much it was actually going to cost them to get it properly roadworthy again (answer - $3000. So not really a free car for them after all) and they've returned it to us. It's back now, clogging up our driveway and sucking away all that good karma we thought we'd earned.
Second, Timmy has fallen out of his sleep routine and that means way less sleep for us. He used to have such a great routine, especially for someone so young. Until we help him find a new rhythm, there's no brain-power left for tackling Moby-Dick.
But on the plus side, the weather round here has turned a rather sharp corner into autumn. It's one of my favourite times, when the look and feel of winter - bleak skies, rainy days - inspires me to get the old hot water bottle out, and the teapot, and even, as every year, my knitting (yes, it's the same knitting project; I work on it in a couple of bursts at the start of the cooler weather every year. I even have the same thought: Oh, I'll get some really nice wooden needles, and some lovely fluffy grey wool, and with these two lovely things knitting will be a dream! And then I go to my knitting bag, and pull out my knitting needles - oh! they are wooden! and I notice that the piece of knitting on them, which has been sitting there for a year, is made of lovely fluffy grey wool. I do a couple of rows, and then I get crampy hands and tense shoulders and I put it down, just for a moment, just until tomorrow because I'm going to do a couple of rows every day, and I'll have that scarf ready before it really gets cold.)