Greetings, dear readers.
Do we always expect more of a weekend than it can possibly deliver?
Being only one person with a houseful of pets to chase after, it seems somewhat demented to think that I can plow through a list the length of my arm, manage to get the pet hair off of everything (not even close), along with twice putting together three meals that hit all four food groups in the proper proportion (again, not even close. Though I will admit to the occasional habit of hitting the 4 Cs: coffee, chocolate, carbs, and cheese…)
These things are especially true when it is not unlikely for my back to hurl protests at me during the completion of almost any task that involves reaching or bending … It likes to toss reminders at me of the month I spent occupying a yoga mat on the floor of my dining room (long story…) There was some pitching today, but only a couple lobbed softballs, not hardball, so I avoided having to manage some period of enforced “no-I-can’t-throw-the-moose-for-you-I-cant-move” arguments with the dog. (This while she rams repeatedly into whatever portion of me is nearest with said-moose in her jaws.)
Well – it keeps her from her other new pastime which is apparently thievery.
So my list is barely dented, but then, so am I, and the dogs are about to be exuberantly happy with their dinner (because they always are), and the cats will accept theirs with royal disdain.
It will still be possible to roll through a few more minor items this evening and be content. Life is more than the list, you know?
Readers, I hope your lists are either very short or full of things that give you joy. I wish you well and safe; I am grateful you are here.