Happy, Eyeballs Tired

I was going to do the dishes. And then I stopped to peruse Facebook (ha! I'd link to that, but you've been living under the most remote rock in Nunavut, if you don't know what Facebook is), and now I can't get started again. As my Grandma says, "My get up and go, won't go." I am happy eyeballs tired, mostly because, I was home. Home, home, home. All glorious weekend long.

Yes, my laptop is on top of my tomatoes. Limited counter space.
It seems lately we have been here there and everywhere. Doing wonderful lovey things with wonderful lovely people. But when I'm home I get to do things like clean up gardens, trim the grass along the walk, can tomatoes, sweep my floors, and make a garam masala spiced pumpkin cake with maple rum frosting. Because, you know, that's what you do when you're home for more than 5 minutes. That and strip. Strip the loveliest old oak base boards. For 5 hours. Listening to podcasts. And wondering if there is something wrong with me because as my hand cramps up and paint chips fall to the floor, I realized I don't mind it. In fact, I almost enjoy it. As the paint fell away I found imperfections in the wood. But I somehow love those old boards all the more for it, and continue to work, making them new again.

There's sawdust on my living room floor because my husband nailed in the living room baseboards today. He's been doing unbelievably attractive things like that all weekend. So here I sit, stripped of energy, eyeballs tired, but so happy. I think I'll try to summon the energy to do the dishes still, and maybe vacuum up that sawdust. And then of course, eat cake.


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