I ran the vacuum over the upstairs, but it’s really hopeless. Once the underlay comes up, there will be enough dust in the old homestead to decorate a haunted house. I’m still liking the paint job, but now… the exterior. When I get home tonight it will be grab the last hour of daylight and police up the front bed, or at least get a start on it. And now to wheedle a pressure washer out of Tom, which shouldn’t be too hard.
The cats are in full-bore freakout mode. Kira keeps running to Keith’s room to hide under his bed and it’s…. GONE!
Spitted briefly yesterday with the Dunnettfolk, and picked up my Sheep In Helmets Mug from Ingrid, may she be blessed and adored. We also watched a wonderful travel video about Venice, which is much mentioned in Dunnett. May Dee be blessed and adored – she got me to and from the Spit in good order and it was really good to talk with her about the whole ‘dayvorce’ thang. Pretty much all the Dunnettfolk are never marrieds or long-divorced, either with relentless cheerfulness (Ã la Jan, who really is almost obscenely cheerful, AND energetic, and she teaches very young kids one third of whom speak no English) or more soberly (Ã la Dee). I brought Camembert, and we ate the whole damned wheel. Oh, and Ingrid BAKED a coffee cake which was the last word in succulence, and she never bakes, so we all felt especially happy about that.
If I talk about the other stuff that happened this weekend, I’ll just cry until I puke, but at least I know that Paul and I have agreed to disagree. That’s what civilized adults do.