Random things on my mind today include:
wondering why a blue jay has taken to pooping all over the deck and front windows, while hanging out in the trees just in front of the deck. I have had robins determined to build a nest on the light outside the bedroom door but I have never had a jay come quite this close for so long. I went to hang the duvet over the deck railing to air and could not find a section of poop-free railing big enough to lay the duvet out. The deck badly needs a coat of stain this summer, as soon as we have three days rain-free, but I am going to have to scrub it clear of jay shit before I can stain it. Not funny, bird;
whether or not my newly potted geraniums have had enough water from the rain that comes with the thunderstorms and, concurrently, wondering where the @#$%!! I put the rain gauge when I took it in last fall. Or where JG put it, more to the point;
mulling over various ways to inveigle JG into going through his closet and getting rid of the pants and shirts that are too stained to wear 'for good' but that have not been downgraded to work clothes or are not suitable. Also wondering what the dickens he got on his good green dress shirt that I cannot get out again. Do you find that some so-called 'perma-press' fabrics soak up grease spots and refuse to release them? I have tried all the usual sprays and bottles of stuff guaranteed to remove grease with no success. It's plain green fabric -- on a patterned cloth it would not show so much. Note to self: do not let JG buy any more dark plain fabrics;
wondering where I put the quote sheets for an advertising flyer I said I would format and take in to be printed. I actually cleaned up all my work surfaces in the office this morning and the papers I needed did not appear. What I did find is a request to write a letter of support for a fellow CHC which was needed to-day. Such a letter would have to be passed by the Board and so I am too late. Shame and all too familiar feelings of disgust with myself for forgetting to do it ensue. I am feeling like that far too frequently lately;
alternately laughing, feeling proud and wondering where the years have gone as I contemplate a letter I received this morning from newly six year old Little Stuff thanking us for her birthday gifts. Considering that LS goes to school in French and that she did this without any help, I am pretty impressed but, oh, where did my baby go? It can't have been more that a few days ago that she was humping herself along in her rompers smelling the daisies; and
wondering what I should cook for supper. I had planned Chicken Cacciatori but can I actually get the vegetables in there without slicing off up my fingers in my present numb brained state? Stay tuned -- if tomorrow I am typimg flike thrjis, you will know that my index fingers did not survive the cut.