It was time to break camp

I didn't sleep last night, and finished Moominvalley in November before dawn, which is probably the best time to have read it. It was a before dawn sort of story.

Yesterday I went out to buy some books and take Happy to the dog park. I bravely ducked into Lawrence Books on Dunbar, to see if they had any Wilkie Collins. Ms. Lawrence was there, as always. She was our highschool librarian, which is somehow incredibly weird, and why I usually avoid the store despite its Vintage Children's section and comforting maze of stacks. I found what I wanted, in old hardcover editions, and Ms. Lawrence didn't recognize me when I paid her. Or maybe she did. I have no idea.

At the dog park, Happy was overwhelmed and skulked around behind my legs while 50-something friendly labradors ran in frenzied circles around us. I wondered if I might see Kelly. As soon as the sun went down behind the houses at the edge of the park, it became incredibly cold and we walked back to the car. It took me ages to warm up. Happy fell asleep in the backseat.

I like being able to play Gameboy anywhere in the house. When I go out, I forget to take it with me, but I've played it on the landing of the stairs, on the striped couch in the living room, in the doll house room, and in the kitchen while the water boils for tea. It's great when you can't sleep, Gameboy, and so is reading, but with Gameboy I never feel like I'm missing something by being tired.