
Today I created a cunning plan. Little lists nested inside other little lists, covering everything I have to do to reach Sunday safely. Limited energies are the curse of chronic illness and cunning plans help me use my limited energies rather than push and never get any fun out of life.
One whole little list snuck into another gives me a party to attend. This will be my moment of greatest glee over the weekend. I don't get to parties very often these days. Must be my general demeanour.
I want to look in the mirror and see if I emit doom and gloom, but instead I shall attend to my cunning plan. If it proceeds as it is set out (and cunning plans seldom do) I shall have an hour at Gorman Markets in between EPIC Markets and volunteering for the CSFG stall at the Writers' Festival. This will almost make up for not getting to any other part of the Writers' Festival.
In between perusing cunning plans, I'm still reading documents concerning the Franklin expedition. I know how to make pemmican and I understand the need to anchor a ship to an iceberg in order to achieve western drift.
Maybe one day I shall be educated. I doubt it, though. At least I can make pemmican if I need to, though. I've wanted to do this since I was a child (and read Swallows and Amazons) before I learned about devising cunning plans.