Rocks!!!

Song of the day: “Mighty Mouse”. I know. I don’t make this stuff up, it was right there and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. It was awful, horrific, I just couldn’t get it out of my head. Aaaargh.

But anyway, I was a little late getting up this morning. No surprise since I was late getting to bed again. The weather was rather lovely during the course of the morning. There were clouds so the temperature was downright wonderful, so lying in bed, the fan whirring beside me felt like pure heaving. I was actually regretful that I needed to get up and head down to the house to start the day.

The edit didn’t go brilliantly, but we managed to get several pages done at least. Good scene, even though I couldn’t really get into it, and that’s always a bummer.
But anyway, while going over the first fifty pages or so with mistakes one of our proofreader’s send back, stumbling on a few minor errors that we missed.

We head out to start on weaving, and the laying of the mats. Slow work, that basically has me walking back and forth carrying heavy mats, new canes and tools for those who are doing the weaving and laying. Not my favorite part of a project, but someone’s gotta do it, I guess. We put up a total of fourteen mats by now, got eleven more waiting, and maybe enough canes left to weave another two or three.

About an hour before dusk we head out with the car, little sister and grandpa come along, and drive in the direction of where we already got a nice batch of rocks several months ago. Seeing as we still need to build several stairs, we’re going to need more flat rocks than we have at this time.

We’re rather late, what with August underway, the night is falling fast, and we sort of miscalculated. But still, we got a good batch again, even though we thought it would be a long shot. The back of the Land Rover is literally filled up, and we are throwing in the last few when suddenly one of the heavy rocks slip through grandpa’s fingers and lands right on top of his foot.

Ouch. Not good. By the time we get back home, his foot is swollen, but it doesn’t look like it’s broken or anything. He’s going to have to take things easy for a bit, at least until the discomfort becomes bearable. Leaving him in his cabin, comfortable, albeit somewhat disgruntled about the fact that he hadn’t managed to hold onto that rock.

It felt kinda good too get rocks again. For some reason it is less heavy on the back than gathering and cutting reed, which is weird, right? Reed isn’t half as heavy as rocks; still, it does feel that way. Hah.

End of the day, yeah! Another edit to go, but then I can call it a night. I can hardly way.