My day job schedule has been changed so that I’m now working a weekend day and getting a weekday off instead. This isn’t all that surprising; what’s surprising is how long I managed to hang on to my weekend while working retail. The promised Saturday and Sunday off was the dangling carrot that sweetened my current position. I’m making a token protest, but in reality working Saturday will make my workload lighter for the rest of the work, will allow Corbie to be out of his crate for three days rather than for two, and has the added bonus of a whole day home alone.
I use the term alone loosely — by alone I strictly mean no other humans.
What are my plans for the day? Lounging in bed? Reading? Writing marathon? Meditation? Yoga with dog modifications? (You know, breathe out and lunge the left leg forward around the dog. Inhale and step back, taking care to not kick the dog. Come into Mountain Pose, breathe in, exhale and bend forward at the hips to reach down and pet the dog) Edit?
Nope. Cleaning. Specifically the kitchen floor and some laundry. I had bigger plans. I *wanted* to: clean the stove and oven, wash all the floors, scrub the tub, mow the lawn, and tidy up some shelves. (I’m a notorious tucker). I may still do the stove and oven, but I sorted through a catch-all box that had been doubling as a cat bed, sorted recycling, washed the kitchen floor. The lawn mower is locked away in the garage and the keys are on Beth’s keychain, and she’s not here, and so that’s a wash. *sigh* Which is fine. I don’t really want to, anyway.
I mixed up some vinegar and water for the kitchen floor, and I suspect that the water was too high to the vinegar ratio, but the vinegar isn’t mine, it’s for dyeing, and I didn’t want to use a lot in case she’s got plans for dyeing tonight. At the very least the floor looks and feels nice underfoot, and more importantly, the sensitive kitty isn’t weezy because of it.
I’ve devoured The Urban Homestead last night. It’s more of the same sort of books, but the writing style is quite enjoyable, and I really like the light banter back and forth between the husband and wife team. I’m once again, I’ll be honest, intrigued by composting toilets, though I know I’ll never get Beth to agree to trying them, and we don’t have the space in this place to do it anyway. I enjoy books that, instead of making it all feel incredibly hopeless, offers positive encouragement. Even on my most negative days I try to remind myself that while it may indeed be hopeless, that’s not a good reason to NOT make changes.
Also, I know really want to raise quail. Mostly just to snuggle.
I actually even wrote down some cleaning formulas, because I never actually jot notes when I’m reading these books and blogs. Simple things: cleansers and floor washes. Instrutions for making lacto-fermentation pickled things (carrots and cukes, first, and then after, green beans!) and reminder again that I want to make my own butter at least once.
My floor is clean, the curtain is in the wash, the cats are curled up and I have a dog attached to my foot. (Reach down and pet the dog). A few hours flurrying around the house, and the inside is mellow. Mellow is good.