I got a bit more sleep this night. It’s a good start, but it still feels like it’s not enough. Ah well, there’s always tonight. I’m going to have to keep it short however, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing considering that there isn’t a whole lot to tell. Hah.
The day starts half an hour late, I can’t get myself to pry my eyes open long enough to even let the dogs out, so I sneak in an extra half hour (I was having a rather pleasant dream, darn it) before starting on the morning rituals.
This of course makes me feel a tad harried when I finally arrive at the house and do a few quick chores, have breakfast and then settle behind the computer.
It doesn’t go so well today, for some peculiar reason. First problem is that my eyes keep sagging shut and when my coffee starts to have an effect at last, I still find myself incapable of really focusing. Second problem…I don’t know what the heck my problem is.
A three page edit later it’s time to head on out into the yard where we tackle some more weeding–nettles are literally crowding the bus–after which we separate into two groups. While the younger sibs head to the west side of the property in order to cut a path through the massive undergrowth, middle sister, big brother and I return to the terrace under the septic tank.
The mud that was removed from the corner of the pool terrace has dried considerably, and lies like a black messy pile on the ground. I take out a pitchfork and shovel and start spreading it out in order to create a flat surface again while big brother starts clearing a patch of reeds that have been suffocating an oleander bush. Middle sister resorts to dragging the debris away.
The pile, created by at least fifteen wheelbarrows of mud, requires quite heavy shoveling. To spread it all out, while literally sinking into the wet patches, takes more muscle action than any exercise I could think of. Hah. Well, at least it takes care of that particular issue. I won’t need a workout! Damn.
It takes us several hours to finish our respective tasks, but by the time dusk arrives we’re all pretty damn sore and more than ready to call it a day.
Little sister, who managed her task faster than the rest of us, has already started on dinner. Mac ‘n Cheese, mixed with veggies goes down well after the hard labor, and by the time we finish dinner I’ve a hard time of staying awake through the remainder of the evening. Luckily, what with summer time, it’s only three hours anyway, and it doesn’t cause too much distress for the loss of work hours on the computer.
Finally we decide to head for our rooms a little earlier, hoping that we can get an hour of sleep extra. There’s a bit of a ruckus before I depart to my cabin, however. Trin Trin and Amos (two Boxers) pounce on little Micky (a Portuguese waterdog) and seem fully intent on tearing the mutt apart between the two of them.
Stupid Boxers! They’re absolute sweethearts half the time, but the rest. Gawd. They make we want to strangle them from sheer frustration sometimes. It almost seems as if they get a short in their brain when they get “The Madness” that’s a fact.
Both little sister and I jump in the middle of the fray, of course, and manage to get Trin Trin off and send Micky scurrying off…only to have Amos jump on her again…which is when big brother arrives–much to our relief. He drags the second Boxer away and restrains her in a chair so little sister can set Micky safely on the table.
The poor mutt is shaking like mad, but is otherwise unharmed and starts eating the treat she’s immediately offered, without delay. Trin Trin–I’m holding her by the collar while berating her–has a bleeding gash in her nose and is looking properly contrite as I lock her in the pantry.
The sibs will release her once I get the other dogs up to the cabin.
Once I’ve made sure that Micky is all right, I take my pack out and head on up for the night. Gawd, I need to get some sleep fast.
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