Which is pretty amazing, given how hard and fast I worked yesterday. Definitely a "prayers are answered" day. I got through nine days of mail for SemperFi and seven days for my other attorney. (I think I gave her a clever name the other day, and if so I can't remember what it was and am not in the mood to go searching.) When I left the office, I had filed a fourth(!!!) answer that was due on Monday and caught up the mail through 2:00 yesterday afternoon. If more came in after that, I don't know. I didn't work my To-Do's. I just wrangled old mail all day and eliminated a few more emails. If all goes well on Monday, I'll catch up my To-Do's, keep current on the mail, and make great strides on my inbox. Maybe I will be entirely caught up by next Friday.
At any rate, when I left the office, feeling tired but not frazzled, hungry but not for drive-thru, I spent a good part of the drive home putting together dinner in my mind. When I got home, I sliced the faux Vidalia onion and sweated it in a mixture of avocado oil and coconut oil, then added a discounted box of sliced baby Bellas. To finish, I added an entire small clamshell of baby spinach and let it wilt down. That went to the back burner while I fixed a salmon burger in the leftover oils and nuked a package of brown rice and quinoa (from Costco) and sliced a small apple. Made for a pretty plate and about an hour's worth of dining as I read one thing and another.
I finished eating around 8:30, which is later than I like, and dithered for another hour before the debate between feet and eyes got resolved. As I posted on Facebook, my eyes wanted to
go to sleep. while my feet wanted to go to the pool. I went to the pool, knowing that while I didn't want to leave the house, I hadn't done any real physical exercise all day, and I needed it. I came home much refreshed. Normally when I exercise late at night, it revs me up again, and I have trouble winding down for sleep. Not last night. Even though my hands wanted to knit "just one more row." I slept like a rock. Something like seven hours.
I will be going back to the local flea market this morning. That's where I bought the corner chair last month. I want to be done with everything outside well before noon, and to spend the heat of the day here at home under one ceiling fan or another, puttering, until it's cool enough to go back to the gym for another jog in the pool. I have the next step on the medallion quilt all lined up on the ironing board in the dining room. I am enjoying the biography of Fred and Adele Astaire. Lorelai and the Tardis are both covered with drippings from the crape myrtle, and I either need to wash them myself or take them to the car wash. I don't think I've ever washed a car by hand. Could be fun and count as exercise if I get right to it.
I think I will begin with a walk around the block. The neighbor's house that provided me with the new black ladder-back chair on my front porch (which I intend to turn into a planter) has a large, nondescript pot set out on the curb. I do believe I shall mosey on by and take a squint at it.
The plants in the front yard are still alive. And my air plant (inside) appears to be happy. Proving once more that Heaven is still in the miracle business.
- 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!