My only child, a first-year cadet at The Citadel, is home for the Thanksgiving holiday. I will be a cooking machine for the next few days. I will try not to be an eating machine as well though. In fact, I’m off to the gym to start a new exercise routine with a refreshed goal. The trick is to save enough energy to still get the cooking, gardening and other activities on my to-do list accomplished. Work? Oh, as in my job? I’ll worry about that on Monday.
Have a great weekend.
Robin
Right Now at Bumblebee
If you’re in the neighborhood and just happen to have your paintbrush and paint clothes with you, stop on by. Harry and I are taking the day off from work to start painting the master bedroom. We figure it’ll take until Sunday. Harry does most of the rolling—no small chore with high ceilings—and I do all the tedious detail work. You, of course, can pitch in wherever you like.
We’re painting it a dove grey. So if you see some grey in my hair in the next few days, it’s paint. Got it? The grey is paint.
Robin
Happy Groundhog Day! What are you doing to celebrate?
We’ll have a special dinner of NOT groundhog. Dinner will be a special pasta (TBD) and some yummy homemade yeast rolls. Then we’ll pull out the photo album of past Groundhog Days and reminisce. We will toast Puxatawny Phil by opening the first bottle of my homemade apfelwein, which I hope is sparkly by now. If it’s any good, you’ll hear more about it.
Cheers!
Robin
Working from a home office is not always what it’s cracked up to be. I have a lousy IT department (me). Interruptions range from barking dogs to crowing roosters. I hear my business phone ring during non-business hours.
But there is a lot good about a 15 step commute. Such as today. It’s cloudy and a bit drizzly, but the temps will climb into the mid 60s for the second day in a row. I will turn off the heat, throw open the windows and give the house—and office—a good airing. Ahhh!
Robin
It’s cold here with a bit of ice and snow on the ground. The hens hate it.
There was a huge, chicken-y traffic jam at their window/door this morning. As I opened it three hens bolted outside. But they beat a hasty retreat back into the coop while other hens were still trying to get out. There was an impasse and much chicken shoving. There were no injuries—unless you count my sore sides from laughing so hard.
Robin
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December 3rd, 2009 at 4:37 pm
I’m surprised your first-year cadet left you any food. My father was a knob once, a long, long time ago, and he’s spent the rest of his life making up for the tiny amount of food he was allowed that first year.