It's Sunday. Tal and his son, Bruce, are out fishing. I've just finished restoring the kitchen to order, having prepared a crack-of-dawn breakfast of peppered bacon, grits, scrambled eggs, toast with orange marmelade and coffee. How I make such a mess does boggle the mind. But, now the kitchen is geogeous! Even the stainless steel's been polished.
To add to the disorder of the day, the person who was supposed to pick up the dogs from the vet before the kennel closed at noon yesterday, didn't. This place isn't right without Whitby and Belle. Needless to say, both of us are disappointed; the quietness around here is rather loud.
I'm stalling on two formidable tasks I have to finish today, a writing project and one requiring alot of paper pushing, envelopes, mailing labels. My strongest motivation to get on with it is the fact that my part in both projects will be over by the 24th of October. Not that I'm wishing my life away ... or counting the days.