Week Two Report

While Friday morning it seemed unlikely that I would emerge from the murky depths of The Mister Room, I have survived and we are still speaking.

The plan: To be able to open and close the door to the room, dust, knock down cobwebs, and sweep.

Strategy: Start at the door.... which wasn't easy since the door was behind three congas, two boxes of Austin Healy parts (think: interiors of the two car doors as this is what they are), an antique radio, and two boxes marked "miscellaneous stuff."

Attack plan: Don safety gear, update tetanus shot, call Mother and Daddy, text the Airman to tell 'em I love 'em, update will and dive in.

Result: Well, now, not only can we open AND close the door, but all the things in the hall (except the Healy parts --- they are going on the Healy This Week) are in the room. I started by looking in all the boxes. They were Willy Nealy with contents. Taking a hint from "Hoarders" and "Clean House", I categorized items in the boxes. There were five: patches from Hamm operators or motorcyclists; music; electronic and ham radio; instruments (sub categorized into brass, string, woodwinds, and percussion --- and yes, they were all represented. Remember, he is a musician.); and memorabilia.

Trashed: Four 30-gallon bags of trash (empty boxes and such) and 14 boxes that were no longer needed once categorization was complete.

In addition, this week I finished the Wingspan shawl and am now putting the lace edging on the Truly Tasha Shawl that is knit in a lovely black merino. It was started four years ago at a re-enactment when I needed some kind of handwork for demonstration. When I got home, it was put in time out and has patiently waited for me to retrieve it.

One day was spent at my darling MIL's working on cleaning her upstairs for her.

And, one day was spent with gal pals visiting, eating, and crying over my lost youth and innocence.

The rest of the week was the usual: hoof trimming, cleaning out the diddles (who are almost ready to graduate to the next level of chick life), caring for all the critters, and rescuing a poor little Easter bunny set out to fend for itself. More on that tomorrow.

Plans for this week:

Monday my gal pal Eleanor and I are going to Mecca -- the Container store and Ikea for more storage things (I need more of the little rails that go on my Elfa shelving to keep all the folded goods Straight and Good Order).

Tuesday and Wednesday will involve cleaning out a little building where the Airman has things stored and working in the gardens.

Thursday I am trading labor with a gal pal by painting her studio in exchange for the labor of my choice here the following week (I am thinking it will be painting the storage building to match the barn, chicken coop, and farm equipment buildings -- they are all purple).

Friday will be working more in the Airman's building by reorganizing it to hold all my outside decor stuff -- flags, wreaths, chairs and so forth. His stuff is mostly in the attic now, so I just have two things of his to move and then a bit of other things to move to the proper storage area. This is the "getting ready for the Market" day, too. I am making scones to go with the jam I have been making.

And, there you go, another week gone. Somewhere in there I will, of course, knit, finish dressing the towel loom, read, grade, and finish the class I am taking.

I am already tired.

What are you doing this week??

Don't Mess With My Schedule!

Normally, my day begins around 5 a.m. Between feeding, breakfast, dressing, and the morning commute, it is just easier to start so early. This means that everyone on the place is ready to eat no later than 5:30 -- especially Monsuier Wookie. And, of all the folks, he is the one who is most vocal if things are not kept on his stomach's schedule.

All week I have slept in, hoping to rid myself of the plague, and so, the Mister has run interference, keeping everyone's stomach content. This morning, though, he was as tired as I and stayed in bed.... until Wookie decided he was going to eat. No If Ands Or Buts.

He started his attack by standing on my hip.

He barked (yes, Maine Coons bark: "Meh!")

He walked up to my face and gently patted it with his paw. He patted again, not so gently, but got no response.

He put his nose to mine and barked again.

He pulled the covers down from my chin and barked yet again.

He turned around and struck me in the face with his very large, bushy tail.

He barked a little more insistantly.

Much to his dismay, I turned over, completely ignoring his pleas. After all, I am in charge, right?

This insult was more than he could stand.

Jumping over my head, he burrowed under the covers and stuck his nose under my night shirt.

Needless to say, he won.

Don't forget Amy's Farm Friend Friday! It is so fun to visit the other farm gals!