I'm channeling my parents, grand parents and great-grandparents today. I shooed Mojo out of one of my orchid pots (he was determined to string bark and charcoal around the floor), and when I told him "No!", he gave me that incredulous look he's so good at. And then I caught myself saying "Yes, I said no!" Egads.
We have rechristened our house the House of Poo. Not as in Winnie, but as in what I pick up constantly through the day. It amazes me what can be produced by two tiny dogs during a 24 hour period. Coco is beginning to get the idea that it belongs outside, but Mojo has the idea that he has to hold it in until he gets back in the house or he will be a great disappointment to Mommy. She does seem to collect the stuff, for some reason. Stores it in that big white porcelain thing in the tiny room in the hall.
On another front, I am still wading through a stagnant swamp of work. There are days when I wonder if I will ever again get to do something I want to do. I know it can't last forever, but right now I feel like I've been wearing waders for two months and the stuff is beginning to flow over the top and pool around my feet. What I wouldn't give for a day or two of twiddling my thumbs.
My kingdom for a clone. I would love to send some little android in to do my work while I get back to genealogy, miniatures and knitting. I have piles of things in each category that need to be dealt with, but instead they are collecting dust. I'm way overdue in constructing a new family newsletter, but time doesn't allow it right now. I have dollhouse kits stacked in my work room ready to become my next fantasy house or shop. There is a small mountain of fabulous yarn I have amassed, and a pile of tempting patterns, and all my knitting needles remain empty. Oh well, I guess when I end up in a room with padded walls, I'll have lots of creative therapy available. But, then again, they would probably take my knives, saws, scissors and needles away from me. Ya just can't win.