Sun trine Uranus

So it's Saturday and I get some time to myself and decide Ama and I need an engagement calendar of some kind to share, me having so many important sing-alongs to attend and Ama about to go back to work full time.

There are still huge banks of snow in the roadways and some sections of sidewalk are barely cleared, but with no stroller to deal with it's an easy walk to Harvard Square, where the Uranian sound of revolution is audible from blocks away. Of course, as this was a good 18 hours ago and I am much more concerned about remembering the words to One Little Turtle Said to Another I've already forgotten the chant, but it was along the lines of  "No, no, no no no, Mubarak has got to go," may my Aquarian Moon forgive me.

Politely murmuring "Excuse me, excuse me" I sidled through the protestors and into the stationery store that has the "Please Eschew Cell Phone Use While in the Store" sign on the door, where I whiled away a couple of hours trying to decide whether to buy a lined white yellow pad for $1.69 or a quad ruled one for $2.19, hoping if I waited long enough the $5.95 desk-top calendar I had my eye on would go on sale as one-twelfth of it was no longer useable.

By the time I left the store with the full-price calendar and white lined yellow pad, the revolutionary aspect of Uranus had disappeared, to be replaced with its surprising and unusual side in the form of a package on the porch at 326. Inside: the most astonishingly beautiful HAND-KNITTED sweater and pleated skirt - A HAND-KNITTED PLEATED SKIRT - IT'S 2011! - EVEN IN CAMBRIDGE CHILDREN WEAR MASS-PRODUCED MADE IN CHINA ACRYLIC FLEECE NUMBERS FROM COSTCO - for Star Child (thank you Eileen); a never-in-a-million-years-would-I-think-it-would-fit-me-but-it-does-and-perfectly hand-knitted two-tone blue jumper for me (thank you Irene); a pastel rainbow Beanie Baby bear for Star Child (thank you Maria) and perhaps most surprisingly Uranian of all, five pairs of Bridget Jones-ish undies with lace trim at the legs and waist, except they were nylon and I think Bridget wore cotton, which is what Irene thought they  were when she bought them. So as I've already told her, thanks, Irene, I love you loads, but I don't think even Uranus can get me to wear nylon undies. Good cause here they come.