I got home so late on Thursday night that I was barely awake enough to unlock the front door. Much too tired to remember to plug my cell phone into the charger. So when I turned it on after charging it up yesterday morning, there was some old business to take care of. And a couple of new voicemails. And one small mystery cleared up.
Namely, how did my disposable paint tray get from the floor under the bathroom sink, into the kitchen sink? Because the waterbugs did not emulate their smaller, computer-generated cousins from Enchanted and finish painting my bedroom walls while I was at work.
My friend borrowed it to paint these: new porch pillars.
And scrubbed it within an inch of its life and left me a voicemail asking, “What do you think?”
I think I need more sleep. How on earth could I have walked right past them and not noticed? [Oh yeah. See paragraph one.] I wish you could see them close at hand. They really do spiff up the porch. Here’s a shot from almost the end of the sidewalk, because the house numbers have not gone back up as yet.
Hard to believe this was the only ungentrified cottage on the street when I moved in three months ago. I should be picking up daylilies from the Nail Dude later today. [He has a second business growing daylilies and iris.] He can’t guarantee the color, but he’s made me a deal on a big bundle of bulbs. I think I will plant them where the sidewalk ends.
I cannot believe that I forgot that yesterday was “Talk Like a Pirate Day”. I pulled this from Barb’s blog. Loved it, especially because I work in a law office. Argggh!
Also on the agenda today are the gusset increases for Anastasia. I hope to have both heels turned by the time I go to church tomorrow, at which point both balls of yarn ought to be small enough that I can tuck them into their respective socks for greater portability and less tangling.
The children’s father is settling in at the nursing home. When Firstborn visited him on Thursday, he already had two new friends. I’m invited to dinner at Secondborn’s after church tomorrow. I may swing by and see how he’s doing. Or, since I visited him at the VA Hospital earlier this week, I might give it a couple of weeks.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!