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Today is, of course, the release day for the SG-1 S9 DVDs. To boost the rankings, I had mine ordered on Amazon, resigned to a bit of a wait but, hey, sometimes they send them early so you get them on the day, right?
Not this time. I checked at 10.30 and it hadn't shipped, wasn't even in the system to ship. Then I saw that Future Shop had it for $8 less than the preorder price; $40.
Sorry Amazon... Cancelled the order, leapt in the car and whee, I have it ::clutches it to me::
I also stopped off and got coffee for the workmen. Tims put the cups in a cardboard tray, which I put in the seat well beside me. All was going well until I got to our road, which has a pond at the end of it, and I realised that the tiny black blob on the road was a baby turtle crossing. I braked (no one behind me or approaching so it was safe), yanked the wheel over, and the coffee went flying. Turtle okay (I think) and the lids were on tight so not much leaked out.
The storm has blown over and there was this rich golden sunlight pouring out of a blue sky onto gently misting fields filled with some crop which turns scarlet as it withers. I did my usual recitation of the first line of the Keats poem: 'Season of mists and mellow fruifulness, close something something of the something...oh, whatever' and felt happy and calm.
Not this time. I checked at 10.30 and it hadn't shipped, wasn't even in the system to ship. Then I saw that Future Shop had it for $8 less than the preorder price; $40.
Sorry Amazon... Cancelled the order, leapt in the car and whee, I have it ::clutches it to me::
I also stopped off and got coffee for the workmen. Tims put the cups in a cardboard tray, which I put in the seat well beside me. All was going well until I got to our road, which has a pond at the end of it, and I realised that the tiny black blob on the road was a baby turtle crossing. I braked (no one behind me or approaching so it was safe), yanked the wheel over, and the coffee went flying. Turtle okay (I think) and the lids were on tight so not much leaked out.
The storm has blown over and there was this rich golden sunlight pouring out of a blue sky onto gently misting fields filled with some crop which turns scarlet as it withers. I did my usual recitation of the first line of the Keats poem: 'Season of mists and mellow fruifulness, close something something of the something...oh, whatever' and felt happy and calm.