I'm taking my little darlings off to Scenic Coominya for the first week of the holidays. Which is a big, long-arse drive for me.
With luck, I might get Beloved to drive, which will be a break.
But that's pretty much all I have planned for today. Y'know. Apart from the whole story thing that will be happening later.
If I'm really lucky, I'll get to clean and then listen to one of my rescue albums.
The kids are going to be good company for Mum-in-law. Hopefully Miss Chaos has a bit of tact about our recent loss. She's been... blunt... about familial death. On the other hand, she's easily distracted and may not be blunt during her holiday.
Meanwhile, I've learned that Lindt has ceased funding the least charitable charity known to extant humankind - Autism
doesn't Speaks. The organisation that calls my own slight social impairment a "burden" for the family, and sneakily endorses parents killing their autistic children as a form of mercy killing.
Autism Speaks doesn't raise money to help families with Autistes. It raises money to spread the word about Autism Speaks. And, until very recently, there were no Autistes anywhere on the board of directors. And it still holds up all its ableist bullshit.
So I'm very glad that my favourite chocolate makers are now no longer funding my least-favourite alleged "charity". It means I'm free to try that 90% cocoa dark chocolate that Lindt has in the local Coles. Huzzah.
I do have to attempt to clean the house before Chaos' birthday so we can host a party for her. Herculean effort. Unless I can somehow find someone willing to do the cleaning with me for cash.
You'd be shocked how hard that is.