I’m pretty good about turning off my cell phone, or turning it down, when I’m on the train. But last night I felt more than a little silly when my keychain got squished by my planner and started “baah”ing repeatedly. Downright sheepish, in fact.
Great workout this morning. Birds were going nuts when I came home. (See status on Facebook?) I am clean and dressed and have my lunch and my cell phone and my keys and a reasonable portion of my marbles. Time to head on out the door.
Firstborn called me at work yesterday, picked me up at Centreport Station, fed me at Fuzzy’s Tacos [thanks, Francis!], and perched me on the edge of the tub while she cleaned and polished the master bath. She doesn’t like housework any more than I do, and she likes company when she does it. So I go, sometimes, and sit and visit with her and watch her work.
Sadly, it does not work in reverse. I’m sure she’d be willing, but the Good Housekeeping Fairy generally smacks me upside the head in the wee small hours of the morning, when sensible people (which, most of the time, describes most of my children) are sensibly asleep.
- 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!