Bowled over.

A night passed that felt rather short...which could of course be explained because I was running dreadfully late last night, and didn’t actually get to sleep until six thirty. The dogs are never merciful, however, so the moment the alarm clock goes off, I get out of bed and throw the pack outside before they destroy something out of sheer frustration.

Still harsh winds with bright sunlight outside, which would be more suited for February or March, than it does December. I spent a few minutes watering the jasmine vine outside my window and gather my laundry that’s been piled on top of my closet for two days now. After I get dressed we head on down to the house–dogs eager to start the day–and enter the courtyard where big brother’s pack gives us a noisy welcome.

While big brother snaps the leash on the monster boxer, I toss my laundry in the machine–pretty happy that there’s no batch waiting to be hung, by the way–and get my workout clothes for today’s session.

My limbs are pretty tired today, and though I go through every motion, force isn’t really present. I don’t mind, though. I do these workouts for the sole purpose of exercise and try not to work on building strength since my body has a tendency to develop muscles a little too fast to my liking.

The last time I was doing workouts regularly I gained a solid sixty pounds in just 6 months. Now I wouldn’t have minded all that much if inches had been removed, but no, I just gained muscle tissue, which, apparently, is heavier than fat tissue. That would have been nice to know up front, in all honesty, but of course the chiropractor only told me that I needed exercise, not which kind. Drat!

Ah well, this time it appears to be working well enough. Guess the being busy all the time’s helping some too. Hah.

Anyways, I spend a good fifty minutes bouncing around, grunting, punching and kicking until finally all the movements have been made and I can hit the showers now that my limbs are protested pretty vocally…or they would, if they could speak.

I get down to business as soon as breakfast is dealt with, and with big brother sitting opposite of me; we go through about eight pages of the manuscript in the hours that follow. Having decided to skip the messages, since they always distract me way too long, I’m pleased with the progress and am relieved that we’ve already managed to scratch out a lot of words. Only 800 or so to go! We just might manage it after all.

By the time sunset has passed I shut down the computer and head for the kitchen to start on dinner. I’m of a mood to do baking and decide to prepare mushroom pies in the new oven. Much to my delight the sisters come down almost immediately to join in, and while little sister starts on the mushroom, onion and leek filling, adding some curry spices and herbs before stirring in the sauce hollandaise with cheese, middle sister and I get to work on the crust.

Rather than make a big pie, which would have been quicker, we decide to make separate pies in muffin trays and shove them in the heated oven by the time the filling is halfway done. Five minutes into the baking, the gas runs out, forcing big brother to venture outside in the chilling wind to get a new gasket.

It takes only a few minutes to replace the empty one, and thirty minutes later we’re all enjoying the day’s meal. Another experimental recipe turning out to be a success, it’s always a pleasure to see the eaters enjoy a meal. The small pies are filling, though, so we’ll be able to eat the remainder tomorrow.

We spent half an hour digesting the food, figuring that if we start a little early with the continuation of the kitchen’s remodeling project, we might be able to quit before midnight and get some more editing done. After the dishes are done, the counters swept and anything greasy removed we get cracking.

Today the klutz virus has latched on to little sister, who’s literally swearing by the time she finishes the first cabinet’s painting session and somehow knocks over the paint can that proceeds to spread out all over the new stove. She and middle sister spend a good thirty minutes cleaning up the mess while on the other side of the kitchen isle I continue to attach one drawer cover after the next.

The “no more nails” glue is working pretty well–though I use screws anyway, if for no other reason than to keep the two board pressed tightly together–and with last night’s drawers going through their last paint treatment, once the sisters have finished cleaning up, I manage to get three of them done to satisfaction.

On my side big brother’s working on the faucet re-placement, muttering occasionally when things don’t go his way either, but in the end he gets it done, and I can move on to applying a liberal amount of silicone underneath the board of oak that need to be attached to the counter.

It looks good, I admit when I’m done, telling big brother he can reattach the plumbing and start on fastening the bolts that are to keep oak, and silicone alike, in place.
The freezer is still in the way, however, since a part of the old kitchen is taking up the wall where both freezer and fridge will be placed by the time we’re done building, and he needs to twist into the most awkward positions imaginable to get things done.

Little sister and middle sister finish their painting, more mishaps covering the youngest with paint all over her arms. By this time brother declares that he’s going to need little sister’s help because she is able to crawl under the counter easiest. She grumbles a little but is game, as she gets her instructions, tools and is sent into what we’re starting to term “the underworld”.

By then I’m working on the last drawer, and just about start today’s cleaning-up when there’s a startling outcry from underneath the counter. While drilling holes, little sister has gotten a drip of silicone in her eye, and is shouting for cleaning water as she worriedly asks if the stinging goo will damage her eyes.

Having gone through that particular ordeal myself a time or two during the construction of the house, I manage to calm her down well enough as liberal amounts of eye-water are spritzed into the offended eye until she feels confident that it’s no longer bothering her. Bravely, she disappears underneath again and finishes the job.

In order to keep her company, I sit by the entrance, shining a flashlight to the area she’s working on, while we chat about nothing in particular. We’re all getting pretty tired by this time, five hours into the remodeling session, and actually go into one of those gasp laughs one always gets when something really isn’t funny, but exhaustion makes you laugh anyway.

It starts when little sister is crawling out from under the counter, finding herself halfway out, with her butt and spine just barely over the six-inch base of the counter, with not enough strength to heave herself up.

At last I manage to stop laughing long enough to offer her a hand, and pull her to her feet. Knight II decides he wants attention by then, and rears up like a horse, slamming his paws straight into my ribs when I least expect it, making me curse and then grab hold of his collar before he can try again. Ouch. The giant certainly knows where to have the most effect.
I’m actually surprised that he didn’t crack one of my ribs, and berate him sternly until he calms down some at last.

Little brother joins us by then, carrying with him a small Mac book and the declaration that he’s almost finished his project and wants to show the end result.
Having finished most of the cleaning by then, I’ve got the honor to look first, and am literally bowled over at the sight of what he has created.

During the course of the week, being cloistered in his quarters on the second floor he’s been making a movie-like trailer for W.I. Investigations/Shape Shifter and did a marvelous job of it, I’ll admit.

Right there on the screen is a collection of images with powerful music and intense action, showing me a clip of a story I created over the years in such eerie detail that shivers actually run down my spine. It is truly amazing, and looking at it I can only mutter “Oh, that’s just right!” and “That too,” and “How on earth did you manage it?”

I can see him preening with pride and pleasure as one by one we all gather around to admire his work. I’m patting him on the back every now and then, just because I need to do something to show my full appreciation of a clip he intends to put up on Youtube and everywhere else where he can manage it, just as soon as he’s filtered out the last few glitches…his words, not mine.

If it were up to me, I’d show it to everyone right this instant, but little brother’s a perfectionist that way.
I can’t wait for the clip to be dubbed “finished” so I can put it on my computer and watch it over and over again. The best part is; he intends to make one of these clips for every W.I. story, which means I get to watch my short stories as a kind of movie, if we play them all after each other. I’m totally psyched, that’s a fact.

With that little work of art burned in my brain, I head to my cabin not much later, not caring in the least for the cold wind sweeping right into my face as I set to feeding my pack and putting new cushions on my couch, before cleaning out the mop bucket I needed to use this morning.

I get some reading done, but the clip keeps spinning through my mind, even now as I’ve pretty much finished up my chats online and am working on this blog. Can’t wait to display the clip here and see what readers will think of it. Hah.

Knight II is still petulant about the berating he received, acting like a baby in trying to crawl on my lap at every turn. Big Lug! He seems to have no notion of his size at all.

Good day. Busy, but constructive and rewarding in the end.