Metamorphosism

12 or 1

Last night I fell asleep at twelve or one. The house felt empty, and too hot because I'd built a fire earlier in the day and sat on the sofa and read a book with Gamma and the fire really heated up the house. Around ten at night I made Beta shut off the DVD we were watching - Braveheart - in the middle and get to bed because she has an English test today. Around eight I got Gamma to bed, letting her sleep in the big bed because she often gets to do that when her mom is out of town, then I started watching Braveheart with Beta. She says Mel Gibson was better looking when he was younger.

Around six or so I warmed up some food for the girls, then played cards with Gamma and tried to practice cello and played along with her when she played a Christmas song on the piano.

Fourish I drove to the in-laws and picked up Gamma, where she'd spent the night, then went down the hill to the Advent market in the village center, where a number of women greeted me. I must have a doppelgänger there. I was polite and friendly to them, not wanting my doppelgänger to get a bad reputation or anything. Got something for Gamma to eat and drink while Beta hung out at a stand selling puzzles. They were impossible looking puzzles made of string and wood and she solved one while I watched and started another. I talked to an artist selling paintings. He started painting after he retired. I told him the light in his forest scenes was great. Nice landscapes too.

Twoish I picked Beta up at her girlfriend's house, where she'd spent the night. I drank tea there and ate some cookies before they let us go. Then we went and bought a Christmas tree which might be a bit large for the room it's going into but we'll see. The guy will deliver it on the 21^st.

Oneish I walked back to my car at the airport parking lot, paid at the machine and drove to get Beta. I noticed that the stripper's jeep was still there.

Alpha's plane to Tokyo was scheduled to board around 12.30 or so, so we walked around the airport first, went to the toilet, looked at some books, got some stocking-stuffers at the Body Shop (no vanilla!! no, wait, vanilla bath beads turn out to be okay, just not vanilla skin cream is all, Moon Flower or something) and went to the Irish pub there where one of us had tea, the other one a pint, and we shared a basket of potato wedges, tempura-ed tofu and veggies, and three dips, of which the guacamole was still frozen. We sat there talking like relaxed old friends.

We got to the airport what, eleven-thirty-ish. The car in front of us entering the parking lot was a Jeep with a fancy spare-tire cover on the back, with sort of a fantasy airbrushed picture of a platinum blonde in a bikini with two black dogs. The driver leaned out the window to get the ticket out of the machine, which then opens the gate so you can drive in. I noticed that the picture on the spare tire cover was a portrait of the driver. I assumed the driver was a stripper who had a boyfriend who gave her the car, had the picture done, etc. Not very fair of me; she may well have been a substitute teacher. There's no reason a substitute teacher can't be hot. I haven't personally known any hot substitute teachers that look like strippers, but that doesn't mean they don't exist somewhere.

Substitute teacher by day, stripper by night maybe.