The weather is so fine. The garden you built me is so beautiful and it calls to me, loudly. The cat needs to be sunned. The mint needs to be sniffed. Socks need to knitted in the cedar chairs you built me. The mulch you are having delivered needs to be admired and spread. The park has not been inspected since yesterday, and my feet say it's time to go. Birds need the feeder filled and you know how demanding the ducks can be. When they say 'Quack!' I need to jump! Life is exhausting.
The usual day of domesticity (Monday) has come and passed and nothing approaching domestic has occurred.
I did swipe today. There was enough dirt in the kitchen to plant potatoes. Which reminds me, I need to pick up seed potatoes and grass seed today. But my heart is not in it. The swiping that is. At all.
Therefore, until the weather becomes more conducive to the cleaning and such, expect very little to none. Maybe November, if it snows early. But then again, I do like to read while the snow falls, in front of the fire. So, we'll talk.
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