Sunday, Sunday

Lovely day yesterday. I worked in the garden in my shirt sleeves and without a hat. Worked up a sweat, too, doing battle with the dead raspberry canes. I've got the scratches to prove it.

Later was the fannish pubmeet at the Pub at Third Place in Ravenna. I stopped at Bottleworks along the way to see if I could wheedle another bottle of the Top Sail Imperial Porter out of them, but they had already sold out. "Your friends complained that you didn't notify them directly about the Top Sail," I was told. "They said you only put it on your blog. There were only five bottles left when they got here, and they took two of them."

"Well," I said, "they got the word in time, didn't they?"

Indeed, it was kate_schaefer and Glenn who had been dissing my notification system. I saw them at the pubmeet, and we agreed that it was scary that the people at Bottleworks know this much about us. A sure sign that we spend too much time and money there. ("This is Randy," one of the owners once told a new employee when I entered the store. "He's probably paid our rent more than once.")

The pubmeet was fun. My co-editors were there, and we got some work done on the upcoming issue of Chunga. It's gonna be a corker, just you wait and see.