Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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1 Comments:You're just too good, getting your post done so quick!!! I am much slower, even though I have managed to get a picture of the llamas up. I certainly enjoyed having lunch with you. It was great seeing you again. I'm glad you had a fun weekend. Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Sunday, November 04, 2007 Woops. Who knew I'd go silent like that?! Of course, I've been very busy – and also very excited looking forward to and then enjoying this weekend's treats. Friday, after doing the radio interview I slipped on down to Gloucester Courthouse to have lunch with C and her charming husband.  This was the first time I'd met B, who was very chatty and friendly. They were up here from the (real) deep south to buy a pair of llamas. It was a gorgeous day – clear and windy and just crisp enough to enjoy wearing sweaters. Here is Bongo  who is a puddy babeee and will tell you so himself. I wasn't worth jack the rest of the day. Though there is plenty of work on my desk, some of which is deadline-challenged, but I just couldn't settle down to doing anything. I have a couple of mindless tasks that I sink into when I don't really feel like working; book ordering, cataloging, shelf reading. I sort of wandered between those tasks the rest of the day. But all I could really think of was Past and Future Fun. But before I could get to the future fun – there was the House-0-Filth to attend to. I'm a weekend house cleaner. No efficient little bites taken throughout the week sort of cleaning for me, nuh-uh. It's Saturday Blitz – a holdover from my childhood when Saturday meant you cleaned your room and did whatever your assigned house hold chore was. Some years it was ironing – back in the days when you washed, dried, dipped in starch, dried again, sprinkled with water, and then ironed your cotton clothes – wee little dresses with short bodices and gathered skirts – tricky collars on a man's sport shirt. I actually like ironing – still do – but doing it for a family of 6 was a big task and one year my Dad tricked me in one of his weirdo schemes and I ended up with a month's worth of ironing to do in one weekend. When I crawled up out of the basement on Sunday afternoon I staged a quiet but dignified rebellion. I took over the bathrooms instead, which, even though there were 4 of them, was a much easier job. Oh yeah – look – a bird – ENFP here - I still feel right doing my housework on Saturday. It's just that it's my house and I often give myself permission to do no housework at all. As in the past 3 weekends when I was at FFF, and Stitches, and Worked on Saturday – who can clean when one works on a Saturday, hmm? I'm married to a man who not only doesn't see dirt – (see Dave Barry's Guide to Guys) but now that he's had all this eye surgery – I don't even think he can see it any more. Of course, you can feel a clean house and I had my beloved R coming for a visit so I wanted her to feel how nice my house is when it's clean. Plus – I'd been dumping anything I didn't want to put away or carry up to the attic on the spare bed – in the room that had the books in it – yes. My house is still fairly discombobulated. But not so bad we couldn't find room for two much wanted guests. So like my cyber twin, I spent the day doing the deep clean. R and her daughter J showed as I was strolling back from the mailbox and we spent the evening spinning, pouring over knitting books, and pawing through the big tubs of fiber still cluttering up the porch and living room. I hope we'll get in some wheel spinning today – maybe a little Patsy Z watching – at least one good walk in the Sunday Sunshine. Ahhh. Life is good. Mr. Horoscope invites me to be lazy today. I shall take him up on it. |
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