I haven’t done one of these in a while, but let’s see.
I have two major non-writing, non-work things going on in my life right now: Getting the yard ready for autumn/winter, and Finishing the $*( attic.
This weekend was mostly yard. We dug up potatoes and beets (yes, we’re pretty sure that’s a beet). We chopped down the horseradish and walking onions so that we can dig up the horseradish soon. (“this smells like an angry Polish soup.”)
We planted garlic! (And hyacinths…) We cleared out one of the back beds of weeds and planted a cover crop of oats (an experiment). We harvested mustardseed and eggplants and peppers.
(and that beet….)
We brought the bay tree and lavender inside, the lime tree having already come inside. We dumped some pots and cleaned them out for next year. We trimmed back the asparagus.
(The Kale, parsley, and sage will be fine for at least another month).
We put the grill in the garage. We bought a lawnmower.
(We bought a lawnmower!)
(WE BOUGHT A LAWNMOWER.)
At about that point, T. asked how tired I was, and I could manage about “uh-hunh.”
But now I’ve bought more garlic, I’ve bought some Liquid Nails and some spray foam, and today: BACK TO THE ATTIC.
I mean, once I get out of work.
But hey, we got some garlic planted!! We’ve never managed that quite on time before!
Early in Cloverleaf-era
Sometimes, Cya thought her power had a sense of humor.
She’d learned how to craft specific Find requests, because, if she wasn’t looking for something or someone specific (“nearest unbroken Bleach DVD;” “Leo”), her power had a bad habit of leading her on wild goose chases.
Like today. Like “nearest cache of intact, unclaimed books in an accessible-by-me location, with at least two times the number of unique, intact books as the hours I drive to get there.”
Almost every one of those clauses, she’d added on after learning the hard way that her power could be painfully literal.
Today… today she was staring down at a 45-degree incline that had once been the floor of this library. From the looks of things, it had been tolerably sheltered from weather – this area wasn’t as cold or as wet as Cloverleaf, but it still did get precipitation – and peering down and over, she was pretty sure she’d be able to get more than the required 16 books out of here.
But first, she had to get down there, gather the books, and get back up. Continue reading