On this Monday morning, after a few less-than-pleasant wake-ups by smelly puppy and later an attack by muddy puppy paws, I took my tarot card deck, shuffled it, and asked myself the following question (while shuffling):Continue reading “Onwards”
There is something wrong with the electric kettle. When I flick the switch to turn it on, it starts making a banging noise.
Don’t ask me.
This post is a jumble of loosely connected points from the past weekend. In includes a Beagle puppy update (part 1), a Beach Day summary (part 2), and some remarks about COVID and protocol (part 3). And then I round up the whole post with a little rant. #SorryNotSorry
On the weekend my daughter finally got her puppy.
So what does this make me? The “real” mom? “Boss” mom? “Grandma”? 😂😭
Yesterday I came home from somewhere and the husband was downstairs stomping around, slamming doors and swearing under his breath.
“Freaking squirrel,” he said.
Have you read the list of 49 things about me I posted the other day? Numbers 6, 7 and 8 touch on my desire for order in this house. Frankly, I could come up with 49 items just on that topic, but that would be a boring list to read. 😛
But the accumulation of stuff is a prevailing topic in my life.
For instance, my parents are housing stuff that belongs to us. Even though we have our own house, you understand.
Yesterday was all about physical labour.
Physical labour, I’ll have you know, is good for you. 🙂 It’s cheaper than a gym membership, for one thing, not to mention being outside in summer weather is good for your mental health. The work, especially if it’s your own work (maintaining your own home) contributes to a certain type of well being that feeds the soul, you know? It pays back, so to speak. You can look at the finished product and pat yourself on the back and say “I contributed to this”.
Daily grind housework doesn’t feel quite the same. I mean, when I do six loads of laundry AND put it all away in the same day, which is practically unheard of around here, I don’t pat myself on the back and say ‘well done’. I just do it (or procrastinate about it). Same with the endless dishes and kitchen debris. That stuff never ends although when I see a clean and tidy counter prior to going to bed, and more importantly when I get up for coffee the next day, I do feel a sense of ‘glad I put the effort in last night’.
But yesterday, that was different. Continue reading “Soothing physical labor: when home ownership contributes to a healthy lifestyle”
You know when you’re in a good mood and then a bunch of stuff happens and you suddenly feel like you need to withdraw, go someplace to be alone, recharge?
I went outside to hang the laundry when my mood changed. Flipped like a light switch from pleasantly content to irked and beyond. Had to get away from clutter and stuff and laundry baskets and crumbs and soccer on tv or else I was going to get into one of my rants.
Hanging laundry next to the guinea pig pen, and the birdhouse, and my flowers in my raised herb garden bed was going to be my calming action.
It did not help. Even though hanging laundry is a form of low impact exercise, which is supposed to be good for you. Right? Stretch to hang it up, bend down to pick it up, move a few steps this way, then that way…
It wasn’t calming.
Since the first day of summer vacation, we’ve had renovations going on. Mostly outside, but the guys did come inside to put a sub-pump into a closet downstairs during the last couple of days. My closet looked like an outhouse for a while, with a huge hole in the ground and bags of dirt piled along the wall.
For the first week of summer vacation, we’ve been waterproofing the foundation of the house. But that’s not all. We’ve also had a plethora of wildlife adventures to keep us distracted, as well.
One of our veggie patch thieves, a little groundhog baby, suffered some sort of head trauma and we had to catch it in a bucket and call Animal Services. The big fat momma and the twin sibling seem to have disappeared, probably because of the waterproofers. When the remaining ‘hog baby got injured (I think, or maybe sick with distemper), it must have gone back to his birthplace (my neighbour’s shed) to seek comfort. Except, he found himself abandoned and alone. It was my daughter who saw him first, and I managed to catch him the next day with the use of a broom. Poor thing is probably not going to survive…