Dear internets: I was just simmering some chicken giblets with carrot and onion and celery and bay to make a stock for the gravy for the roasting bird, and I noticed that the level of liquid was getting low. So I scooped the pan up to carry it to the tap to top it off - and half a second later my mind started screaming no! omigod we're going to die! we'll burn our fingers off have we learned nothing in the last ten months never pick up a pan without a glove on - and then the other half of my mind pointed out that no, actually, the handle of the pan was quite cool, thanks...
So I don't know if my subconscious had noticed that my English pans were here and sort of understatedly overruled my pain-trained Pavlovian near-conscious, or whether I just did a stupid thing and didn't suffer for it because of sheer blind luck - but it's a little miracle either way, and yay! My English pans are here! I don't have to burn myself any more by just picking things up!
Karen notes that I have merely exchanged opportunities to burn myself for opportunities to cut myself - my wife can be wry sometimes - but hey. I'd go for that every time. Sharp knives and stay-cool handles: this is what a kitchen's all about.
I still haven't sold the problem of space: the kitchen was full before my things arrived, and now it's fuller. But we'll get there. And the books were another miracle: brooksmoses came with tiger_spot (and with Morgan! yay coolest baby ever!) and acanthusleaf came and so did Dave who as far as we know is not on LJ, and between them all we didn't get the entire Borg Cube of books unpacked but mostly so, there's only a few stranded islets of boxes left waiting for space on shelves magically to materialise. Which no doubt it will in the fulness of time but not yet. And it all happened so quickly that I don't even have photos of the Borg cube; all I can offer is a side dish of Mac reacquainting himself with the Yarli -
- and Morgan being the supercoolest baby ever: