"There are no mistakes, only happy accidents".

Had a lot of dreams this night, but the main theme definitely was building the kitchen. I don’t like dreams about stuff that is already happening for real on a daily basis. It makes me think that I didn’t get any sleep at all, and confuses me when I see that all the hard work I did in the dream actually still has to be done.
This was certainly the case today…but I get ahead of myself, so I’d best start over by going back to the moment of my awakening.

The alarm goes off as usual, and I let the dogs out before they go completely bonkers. I linger a little during the morning routine, but get to the house on time, ready to start the day that lies ahead. I’m a little stiff and sore from yesterday’s workout, but while I was writing last night’s Blog, something in my back popped and removed the painful sciatica ache from my lower back and hip, allowing me to move relatively unhindered.

Outside temperatures have improved considerably, and for once I’m not huddling in my warm vest, or hiding my hands inside the sleeves of my sweater. As a matter of fact, for the first time in days my fingers actually feel normal and nimble, which is definitely a plus.

I find myself to be hungry this morning, and start off with a quick breakfast of bread and some orange juice when I arrive at the house. I work the meal down before I start on the day’s laundry. Not too much of that today, so I get through it fast enough to settle down behind my computer within an hour of arriving at the house.

No actual writing again today, what with the impending visit to the vet to see if Djoti can come home, but big brother and I do manage to get through a six page editing session before the time arrives to depart.

Little sister is looking a bit worried, but cheers up considerably when the young vet announces that the operation went well and allows little sister to head on to the back of the clinic while I listen to the basic instructions of medications and treatment when the little Cocker goes home with us.

Still a little dazed from morphine–and the night away–Djoti eagerly crawls into little sister’s arms, settling there as if he has no intention of leaving her embrace within the next week or so as we head back home and bring him inside.

It always saddens me to see how scared the dogs are even after just a few hours away from home. It makes me wonder if they think we’re going to leave them for good, since they’re unlikely to truly understand the reassurances we offer as we leave them. We never would, but still they seem to fear this the most.

With the jubilant welcome of the dogs, I head straight for the kitchen, deciding that I’m going to break in the new oven and make a large pizza for dinner, just to see how it goes. Younger sister joins me in the preparations, both of us standing at a comfortable distance from each other as we slice veggies, knead dough, grate cheese and place it all on the bar–even though it doesn’t have a top yet–well out of reach of the eager dogs.

They are sniffing at the scent of raw vegetables, cheese and even the dough, like they are starving…and that while little brother is dispersing food for them.
The majority actually ignores their portion in hopes of stealing a tomato, a pepper or even an onion when we least expect it.

The new arrangement is working great, I admit, actually smiling as we go through the process of baking the crust, add the tomato sauce and then the toppings before we slide the one by two foot tray in and out of the huge oven. The dogs are unable to reach the food without actually setting their paws on the counter, but frequent warnings and an occasional scowl keeps them from actually doing so.

It takes less than an hour to make the meal, and on the overall we’re all pretty pleased with the end result. Since I’m used to an electric oven, rather than one working on gas, (like the new one) there are some dark patches on the large pizza pie, but it doesn’t do anything to diminish the taste of the dish, which is rapidly devoured by all family members.

While little sister comes down to the kitchen to get her fair share, she informs us that Djoti is obviously thrilled with being home, literally rolling around on top of her bed upstairs before snuggling up against two of his pack members. Little sister is a mite saddened by the loss of Djoti’s eye, not liking the sight of the lid, which has been sewed shut, but other than that she too is happy with the end result. He’s still with her, and at least he’s without the discomfort the bad eye caused.

After dinner and its ensuing clean up, I vegetate in front of the TV for about forty minutes, watching a rerun of “the Closer”, and then while “Cold Case” comes on get up to call younger sister for help and resume the construction of the kitchen.

Having decided that the connection between the steel sink and fake wood counter isn’t going to hold against water spatters, we get the last piece of oak wood back inside and start to measure it.

We’re going to need a stretch of one meter and sixty centimeters for the center bar of the counter, but the rest is up for grabs. After cutting off the section reserved for the bar with the electric circle saw, I’m left with an oddly shaped puzzle piece out of which I have to get the required lengths for the frame around the sink.

In the end I manage to salvage two, one and a half inch wide, strips that’ll fit alongside the steel sink, allowing for a liberal path to fill with silicone, once we fit them around it, like a frame.

What with the wood being old, and used, it takes us some time to clean and sand it, but in the end we get it in place, using lots of glue and several bolts to attach them to the counter so no more water can seep between the seams.

It looks rather good, we find, examining the end result with some pleasure, especially when at that time big brother has shut down his computer and attaches the bar in the center. The design is really showing now, all straight angles, clean lines and easy to reach surfaces. Perfect.

It took some effort, of course, especially when I had to crawl underneath the counter in order to bolt the solid oak to the counter, but it looks good once I’m done and step back to admire the view. All angles and straight lines…a remarkable improvement to the old kitchen.

Next younger sister and I remove one of the covers I placed yesterday, putting some filling between it and the drawer casing to create some symmetry on the front. The strips that are attached behind the cover fit after just two cuts on four of them, and in the end both sides look exactly the same, as was the plan.

One of the big disadvantages of a self-build home is that there are always some inconsistencies in measurements. Walls are slightly uneven, as are the floors, thus making a project, such as building a square kitchen counter, a game of how-to-make-it-fit-properly. It certainly is harder than it would be if everything was perfectly straight, but it’s also more fun since one is required to think liquidly.

Nothing can be fully planned and there will always be unexpected hurdles to overcome, such as the floor making something waddle, or a wall not allowing for a perfect angle. But on the most part, while building, I’ve found that any mistakes made, are really just happy accidents. Something created for one place where it can’t go, fits perfectly somewhere else. It really makes it one big adventure of seeing where something will end up once all is said and done.

By the time we’ve cleaned everything up and put away the tools and such, I settle on top of the now clean counter and smoke a much-deserved cigarette. Around me the sibs are starting on their late night snack, and the hour of the departure for my cabin has arrived once more.

For some reason my dogs are restless tonight as I settle with the computer on my lap and decide to write a page or two for the Cajun vampire story.
I can hear Chaos and one of the labs bark and howl up the mountain, and Dax is impatiently moving in and out of the cabin as he exclaims an occasional screech.
The Pocket-Beagles do have the most annoying vocal cords, I’ll admit. They’re high and earsplitting once they get going, and unless I grab him Dax won’t stop until he feels like it.

I resort to tossing him on the bed after half an hour of this screeching, and hiss dire warnings at him to settle down, by the time Chaos finally deigns to come inside and demand I lift him onto the bed so he can get his beauty sleep.
The Basset will start walking along the length of my bed when he feels tired, looking at me haughtily, with his tail straight up into the air, until I cave and climb off the mattress in order to lever his hefty body up.

Finally I’m back to writing, and am pleased to see that the scene is developing nicely once I get into the flow.
I’ve not failed to perceive big brother’s frustration with the constant interruptions in our writing project. Unlike me, he’s not yet mastered the skill of patience when it involves part-time writing, and it shows every time we have to stop prematurely due to some activity that takes precedence over writing.

I am determined to appease his impatience by adding more to the story tonight, and actually manage the finish two pages before three AM right before I decide it’s time to start on my blog.

My evening has come to an end. I’m pleasantly tired tonight, and am eager to explore some more dreams and hope for one that’ll inspire me for a story in the near future.

Djoti at the Vet Hospital

I wake as usual to the shrieking alarm, finding my sciatica nerve playing up again by the time I get to my feet and head for the door to let the dogs out. It doesn’t look pretty, I assure you, as I stretch and turn, hoping to get the nerve un-pinched while I slowly go through the morning rituals, dragging my butt ‘till I get down to the house almost an hour late. I abhor being late, but everyone seems to be late today, so I really can’t beat myself up about it. Hah.

Knowing this particular problem (the back/hip thing) from years of chiropractor visits, I’ve found that movements, carefully executed, paying close attention to doing them “right” will at some point put the spinal disks back in place, and therefore I start my workout as soon as I get to the house and deposit my bag on the old kitchen counter.

I’m first again, but since the weather is considerably mild, compared to the past week or so, I don’t mind the fact that the heaters aren’t on yet while I slip into my exercise clothes and get to it.
Warming up is uncomfortable, but slowly, as my muscles begin to heat up from the movements, the whiny electricity-like pulse going through my left hip becomes bearable enough for me to move on to the punching bag.

Aches and complaints of the body frustrate me, so I get to pour out quite a bit of that as the poor bag swings back and forth, multiplying the teeth jarring collision with every punch. Big brother comes down by this time, helpfully keeping the punching bag in place as I go through the rapid jab-jab that is doing marvels on my abdominal muscles for sure.

Perspiration pours liberally halfway through the session, making it drip down my face when I switch over to the kicks that make something pop in my hip at last. For a moment there the discomfort is gone, allowing me to continue on with the workout top-speed before it is finally time to cool down again.
Stretches, crunches and some mild weightlifting wrap up the session, and I’m breathing heavily until, with some more stretches, at long last the tightness between my shoulder blades disappears.

Due to the speed with which I went through the routines, today’s workout took only forty minutes, allowing me to head for the shower when mom and grandpa arrive and settle around the kitchen table for breakfast.

After I’ve dealt with the day’s laundry, I follow suit, knowing with the first bite that my stomach is going to give me trouble again today.
With my coffee beside me, watered down considerably in regard to my stomach, I switch on the computer and go through the day’s messages. Only a few again, which is good, considering big brother and I are determined to work on the short story today.

We are three pages into an edit session–just to get ourselves back into the story–when little sister comes down the stairs with one of her black and white Cocker Spaniels in her arms. Poor Djoti is looking mighty miserable and after a quick look-over it is decided that he needs to go to the vet, because his eye (he’s been going blind for about six months now) is obviously paining him too much to let it slide.

Half a page later it is time to leave and we head for the car and away from the property to travel down the familiar road to the village. A nasty bump in the badly maintained road, pops whatever the workout had set right, back to its previous position, making my left hip and leg whine it’s protest.

We’ve had this problem–cataract eyes–with the dogs before. Several of our Cocker Spaniels have the cataract issue playing up halfway through their life, and most of them come from the same breeder. (We took them when he couldn’t find buyers for them.) Faulty breeding, it shows itself in all shapes and forms. Even our last bobtail, which also came from the same place and under the same circumstances, has eye problems, and is slowly turning blind, way before his time.
Still, what with Djoti being only nine years old yet, it is a treatable condition that involves taking out the eye and sewing it shut.

Sita, our ten-year-old black Cocker Spaniel, had the same procedure two years ago, and though she can hardly see anything now, she is still walking around, content about finding her own way in a place, which she knows by memory and smell. It will be the same for Djoti in the end, we’re sure.
Besides, he’s practically attached to little sister anyway. There won’t be much difference for him in the end, since he absolutely loves being carried around.

So, we get at the veterinary hospital around seven in the evening, explaining the problem to the young intern, and telling her what most likely needs to be done. It becomes clear that she is unaware of the procedure and wishes to keep Djoti there ‘till nine, for when her boss pops in. He’ll only be in today, before he leaves for the weekend, so we quickly agree, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.

Agreeing to return around nine, we head back home.
Little sister is looking worried, and I try to reassure her by reminding her of Sita, who is devoted to her and little brother to say the least. Whenever mom’s not around, the blind Cocker follows them around like a shadow, and is living a pleasant life even with one eye gone and the other no longer functioning.
With that she seems to calm somewhat, and departs to do her own thing upstairs from the main living area.

Arriving in the house, the canine monsters once again assaulting me, I find younger sister on top of the counter, putting the second layer of paint on the raised section for the kitchen, and smile my pleasure, since now I won’t need to do that particular chore.
It looks good, I admit, thinking once again that we made an excellent choice for the color. It’s a deep wine-red that goes really well with the lazuli blue and light blue tiles that will be added at some time in the near future.

While I reheat last night’s dinner and add some extra ingredients so everyone can eat a decent portion, we all settle in for the short wait until we can go back to the hospital to hear the verdict.
We’re just watching something lame on TV–it doesn’t even register–half an hour before we’re to depart, when the phone rings. It’s the vet assistant, and through a connection that is always iffy, she informs me that we were right and that Djoti’s eye needs to be surgically removed.

We are so lucky with our vet. Even though he is scheduled to leave tonight for his vacation, he offers to do the operation tonight, rather than Tuesday when he returns, and with some relief I give a verbal agreement to the procedure. With a little luck we can come back to pick the poor dog up tomorrow.

That dealt with, I really can’t muster up the energy to get up from my seat, and lounge in front of a recorded episode of “Dexter”. Trin Trin and Dax absolutely insist on crawling on my lap as I sit there, sciatica making me shift uncomfortably from time to time, until the warmth of the two dogs on my lap and several others at my feet finally takes effect. I doze off…only to find myself waking up half an hour into Smallville, which big brother’s watching.

I missed the last twenty minutes of “Dexter”, but since my mind is not at all on TV these days, I don’t really mind as I shake sleep from my brain and head for the kitchen to see what’s to be done next. I’ve just taken the time to give Chaos a good petting–he jumped up against me the moment I got to the kitchen and he realized I was awake– when my stomach starts its uproar. This forces me to nudge my way past the other dogs that came running for a petting and hurry towards the bathroom to discard the cookie I’d consumed on my way to the kitchen.

Luckily most of dinner was already processed (I hope so, at least) by this time, making the session over the toilet a short one before I head back for the kitchen and pop some gum in my mouth.

The side covers, I decide, upon examining the counters, asking little brother to go up to the carport to get the leftover parts of the counter, which I’m going to have cut to size if they’re going to fit.
I swear colorfully when I find that I won’t be able to cut two parts out of one piece of the material, and glare at the leftover piece that is just three inches too short for this particular plan.

Big brother joins me by then, and we debate our options…I really don’t want to use both pieces since I want to utilize one for a small eating area once everything is done…when genius strikes again. The section we cut from the counter to place the stove should fit. So, once I’ve located it in the spare courtyard room, I’m delighted to find that it is exactly the size we need in order to cover up one side of the drawer casing. It barely needs any work before I hand the piece over to younger sister for painting. The cut edges need to be protected, and she does them with a nod while I set to work on sawing off the second piece.

While big brother resumes hooking up the faucet of the second sink, and younger sister starts on painting the edges of the second cover plate, I call little brother downstairs so he can help me put the first finished up.
Though he is busy on some sort of project on his computer, he doesn’t complain, knowing full well that if he doesn’t come to help, little sister is bound to–even though she has a headache, poor thing.

Half an hour later, I step back from the latest finishing touch to the counter, and nod my approval at the sight. It looks good, and what with the strong plastic rustico-style layer on the boards I’ve just attached it will be so very easy to keep clean.

That done, little brother heads back upstairs, while younger sister and I apply the last layer of paint to what will be the raised section/bar of the counter. Big brother is just about done with the faucet by then, but someone will need to crawl underneath the counter, once more, to screw in the final two screws that are to keep the oak pedestal underneath the tap in place. We’re all sort of looking at each other, waiting for someone to volunteer, when little sister comes down and offers to do the honors.

Her headache’s abated with the help of a painkiller, and what with her being petite, she easily disappears underneath the counter to drill holes and attach the oak wood to the counter.
By then, younger sister and I are done with painting, and together we all clean up the day’s mess, before my stomach demands some sustenance, prior to departing for my cabin.

Careful to keep the snack bland and small, I stand at the NEW counter, watching the younger sibs start on their own snacks at the stove and microwave, before I let the dogs out of the courtyard and follow them up the mountain.
My stomach gives some protests along the way, but now, two hours later I’m pleased to notice that it’s all going to stay where it’s supposed to be.

The vet hasn’t called, so that means that the operation went well–I hope– and we can all go to bed without too much worries for little Djoti, who’s probably still in deep sleep from the anesthetic, and snoozing the night away.

I am tired, both physically and mentally, and with a little luck, I’ll actually be tired enough to get in an early night before tomorrow arrives.

Wandering thoughts.

Hmmm. I am experiencing a momentary blank spot while I try to recall what has happened today. It must not be too memorable if my mind can’t come up with a nice start of the day, but then, it was an average one, I guess.

I’m just going to do some pondering and see if I can jump-start my brain to get to the day behind me.

What to write, what to write? It is always a question since I wouldn’t want to bore readers with just anything, but then, it remains to be seen if “my world” is interesting enough for a good read in the first place, so just letting my mind drift is really par for the course when it concerns this Blog thing.

To me the daily tasks seem uneventful at times, ‘cause it is just another day for me, but what does a reader think of it? It is a question that will remain to be unanswered for the time being, I’m thinking…which is not necessarily a bad thing, by any means. Until I find the right “note” to hit, this is just wading into the cold water and seeing where the current will take me.

How little, or how much should be written down? This is my life as it is at the moment nonetheless and how much do I really want to share with any unsuspecting reader coming past.
Will just daily actions, thoughts and events be enough for anyone to find it remotely interesting? Does it even matter? What is my purpose for doing this in the first place.

I’m not sure, actually. I guess I’m just using this as an outlet and in the end it is neither here nor there. Perhaps someone will find enjoyment in it, and that will be a nice bonus for me.
The Blog allows me to write anything I wish at the end of any given day, and I find that it is a wonderful way to get things organized in my head.

I doubted for a long time before I decided to start a Blog for real, mostly because of the before mentioned reasons. Putting a diary about life in general out there for all to see, is that really what I want? Apparently, for now it is, so here we go with today’s events in my world and take it from there.

I rise at the usual time. The alarm shrilling in my ear, even through the earplugs I tend to stuff into my ears at bedtime, and with the monsters making a racket I really don’t have any choice but to get up and let them outside.
There were dreams, I recall, something about a stake out, I think, but where it came from I’m not entirely sure. Haven’t watched much on TV this past week that would warrant such a dream, but it was fun anyways.

Last night, before going to sleep, I decided to skip my workout today, if for no other reason than to allow my body at least a slight reprieve what with the past two dizzy spells that almost had me falling on my face. I might have been overdoing things a little, what with exercising and then working an average of nine hours on the kitchen project and everything else, so with that in mind, I go through the morning rituals at a slow pace today.
I get a chapter or two of Julie Garwood’s “For the Roses” in and then take my time to get another sweater out of storage before I get dressed and head for the house.

The weather is pleasant enough for the time being. The average temperature is at least five above what it’s been for the past week, and with that pleased determination in mind I enter the courtyard with the dogs dashing ahead of me towards the front door, which big brother opens on that exact moment.

There’s a momentary clash of our individual packs, and I grab Trin Trin just barely in time to prevent a collision with her and big brother’s black Cocker Spaniel, Sonya.
The two stare at each other with aggressive anticipation for a moment–for some reason they really don’t get along–and then decide that it isn’t worth their time what with both me and big brother towering over them, snapping dire warnings as we all head into the house.

No laundry waits today, and with my decision to skip my workout, I have a quick breakfast and set up my computer at the table while coffee brews on the last part of the old kitchen counter. For a while my attention drifts back and forth between the project that has been taking up most of our time these days past, while, at the same time, keeping an eye on the whirring computer, until I finally sit down and get down to business.

Only a few messages today, along with some chats and the likes that keep me entertained for a solid hour while around me the chaos increases with the arrival of the sibs, mom and grandpa.
The dogs are noisy today, and my brain is scattered too much to get some serious writing done by the time I force myself to go off-line and focus on work instead.
A page gets done, but my brain runs empty soon, so I decide to let it be for now and focus on something constructive, like dinner.

Asian stir-fry with noodles draws my fancy today and I am quite the cheering part when I head for the new counter, which will get its first “real” test run today. Hah.
I have to admit that even though it takes longer than it should, what with all the necessities being all over the place due to the actual construction process still in progress, it feels marvelous to work at the new counter and stove.

It is our own design, fitted to our height specifications, bringing the counter up at least four inches higher than the average kitchen counter. This is excellent for the older sibs and me–except for little sister, who’s the shortest of us all–since now I no longer need to bend over in order to work on meals.
I can just stand there, chopping veggies and everything without ever feeling a single twinge in my lower back, which is great.

Now that we have a five pan stove, I set the water for noodles on the fire and start on the veggies. The center burner is huge and designed for a big pan such as a wok, and heats the oil in little time. After adding the meal’s spices, consistent of dried and grounded ginseng, paprika and coriander, white cabbage goes in first, baking the narrow strips on a hot fire with pepper, salt and sugar until they have a nice crust, before adding the rest of the hard vegetables such as carrots and cauliflower.

Instant and delicious smells waft into the air as gradually more vegetables are added, creating a colorful mix of at least ten veggies that will make a nutritious meal for the entire family by the time all the ingredients are mixed and baked into a hot, but still crispy mix that is soon served with baked eggs and pickles.

Everyone eats and the feedback is good enough to earn this particular dish a spot in the “work-in-progress” cooking book.

The new stove is a pleasure, I’ll admit, what will usually take up to forty-five minutes to prepare, now only takes thirty, allowing us all to eat around eight in the evening with plates filled by a liberal portion.

Since I’m feeling restless for some reason, I don’t bother to sit down while I eat, watching big brother work on his computer as he’s trying out a new program that will be quite handy for the promotion of the W.I. Investigations at some time.
By the time I finish my meal and washed my plate and utensils I decide to clean the new counter and start up the continuing remodeling project when inside my head something starts screeching.

From the feel of it, there’s one of those moods coming up again. The kind where I don’t know whether I want to scream up or slam my head against the wall for no particular reason whatsoever.

Sometimes I wonder about where these moods come from, but not while they’re actually there. No. When they arrive I’ve found that the best way to deal with them is to get busy, and focus so completely on the task that there is no room for thought at all.

It takes a while but by the time big brother joins me, and we’ve attached the remainder of the finishing aluminum strips the screamy/headbangy feel has slipped back to wherever it came from, allowing me to just joke around with the younger (female) sibs who, one by one, come down to the kitchen to help.

Little brother opts to stay upstairs, now that one of his dogs isn’t feeling too well, so we’re with the four of us on this particular evening, occasionally calling up to inquire how Tammi (a blond Cocker Spaniel) is doing.

With the aluminum strips attached, big brother decides to start on the last bit of plumbing for the sink we installed last night, and disappears underneath the counter while little sister and I set ourselves to the base of the raised section of the large isle.
Since the length that needs to be sawed is over a meter, I decide to use the circle saw this time, and climb on top of the counter to position myself right, asking little sister help to keep the large board in place, and the dogs away.

I don’t know what it is with the dogs, but for some reason, whenever we’re using dangerous tools such as the circle saw, they get this dangerous urge to raise their nose up to the spinning blade and attempt a sniff. Idiots!

Across from us, our other sister is once again painting spice drawers, occasionally joining in on the mindless banter we’re throwing back and forth, while little sister gets out the electric drill machine so we can construct the elements I’ve just cut from the boards.

Remembering full well how annoying it is to be the “holder” of stuff while building something gets done, I take over that particular task, and allow little sister to do most of the drilling and screwing for the raised section as we put together a solid tube which is to separate the two counters with a wide bar on top of it.

It is great to see her develop the skill of keeping the drill straight, turning the screws just far enough, but not too far…and her pleasure when she realizes that she can actually do it without error. It makes working together all the more pleasurable to see delight on the face of a “student” who is still discovering all the tricks necessary to create something such as a kitchen.

I remember those days fondly. Way back when as I was still learning about how to build something. Grandpa would be standing behind me, patiently watching over my shoulder as I drilled my first hole, hammered in the first nails, until in the end my skill surpassed his throughout the construction of the house. It is only fair that I now show similar patience towards the younger sibs, who are rapidly learning.

When we first started on this project, I feared that the younger sibs wouldn’t want to participate, but as the days go by and all the preparation work is well behind us, I am pleased to see that the three of them actually seem to be enjoying themselves as the kitchen becomes more and more the perfect place of experimental for each and every one of us.

No more crowding each other while meals are made, enough storage space, and most of all, no more broken or bent hinges–of which there have been plenty over the past couple of years as the old kitchen started to show it’s wear.
Instead the overall image is starting to show clean and straight lines, and most importantly accessibility, which was what we designed it for in the first place.

The raised section in the center is going to be the masterpiece in the end, I’m thinking, in particular since it will allow us to set food out of the reach of our inventive pack that WILL snatch anything edible that’s within their reach. No more of that when this beauty’s done, that’s a fact. Hah.

By the time little sister and I finish putting together the square pipe of wood and find it fitting in place with no more than a couple of millimeters to spare, we’re thrilled with our success, and immediately turn the thing over to our other sister, who rolls on a thick layer of the primer so that it can be painted for real tomorrow.

On the other side of the counter, big brother is done with the plumbing and prepares everything for tomorrow, too, when he intends to set up the last faucet in the nice square of Oak wood, that matches the small pedestal under the first faucet.
What with midnight rapidly approaching, he won’t be able to get it done today, but we don’t care since considerable progress is made.

While we discuss our options for colors on the elevated part of the counter–blue like the base and the spice drawers, or red like the big drawers–little sister and I start today’s clean-up.

By this time little brother joins us with the good news that Tammi appears to be feeling better by eating something, and gets out the broom to sweep the saw-dust covered tiles beneath our feet while slowly, but steadily we clear the counters of tools and supplies alike until in the end every inch is checked for paint splatters and the likes, leaving a clear, beautiful surface.

It is around eleven thirty in the evening when we’re done for the evening, and big brother and I settle behind our computer for another session with the Cajun Vampire story. Though I try, in the end I only manage a page or so. For some reason my mind just won’t switch towards the story at this particular moment, so after a while, we decide to call it a night and prepare to head for our respective quarters.

What with the sibs preparing their own late night snack, I find myself oddly famished and have a couple of slices of bread and cheese before I gather my pack and head out the house.

Somehow a rat has managed to get into my cabin, and it literally falls off the top bookshelf when I open the door and let the dogs rush inside.
Hampered by chubby Lhabana and eager Dax and Touri, Sitabah attempts a leap, only to miss the little critter by a hair. There’s a wild tumble followed by a mad dash after the darned animal that has escaped and disappeared to regions unknown.

Hopeful, the dogs continue to search the cabin for a good hour, with nothing to show for their efforts except weary disappointment when I laugh at their antics and watch them settle on the bed around me for the night.

Now, I don’t know if such a day is interesting for a reader, but it is life in all its simplicity and continuity. It has its funny moments, sad and just busy aspects, but in the end it is just my world, which I enjoy to share.
I do admit that looking back at it, writing it is a pleasure for me. It quiets my brain and sets a nice calming rhythm for me in those final few hours before bedtime arrives.

Well, this concludes today’s session, I suppose. On to tomorrow.

Again, no writing.

Well, it was another chilly night…of course. The fourth blanket didn’t make a noticeable difference, and the early night just left me lying awake ‘til my usual bedtime rather than awarding me with blessed sleep.
So, once again I got too few hours in actual sleep, since the monster Boxer was being a pest and forced me out of my bed just four hours after finally getting to sleep. I had a genuine battle with her as to see who is the boss, and it was a doozy.

It earned me a grazed knuckle from her where her teeth scraped over it, and more than a fare share of disgruntlement when I finally wrestled her against the wall, just so she’d stop trying to win from me.
I wasn’t happy, to say the least, with the adrenaline pumping through my veins after this tussle that is far from easy or safe with a dog that doesn’t know the meaning of submission. But, in the end I’ve got her in a firm grip and hold her still until she stops trying to grab either my clothes–or me, she isn’t at all picky about that.

Giving her jaws, which I needed to grab in order to evade her blunt but strong teeth, a good shake, I haul her onto the bed and take her into a headlock for a few more hours of much needed sleep.
She keeps blissfully quiet until about half an hour before the alarm is supposed to go off, so I get up and start with the normal morning rituals not in the best of moods.
My knuckle hurts and knowing that the day ahead is going to be busy, I’m not happy with the lack of sleep either.

What with the schedule for the day being filled, I know that my workout simply isn’t going to be doable, and don’t even bother starting the mental discussion with my “lazy” self, when I just decide to skip it for a day in favor of getting some other stuff done before we need to go to town.

A big load of laundry is waiting once again, and after removing the dry clothes and sheets from the lines, I hang the new batch up, to head into the much warmer house ASAP.
It takes me a little while to get the dried stuff folded but by that time big brother has joined me and mom is on her way down the stairs as well, creating the usual ruckus amongst the cheerful pack members.

Breakfast is a hasty affair of stuffing some bread down my throat–and then settle down on the new kitchen counter to repair the pants I’ve taken out of storage now that my Jeans are really overdue for a quick wash. The buttonhole tore off sometime during the last winter, and I need to flex my cold fingers several time before I manage to handle the needle and thread that soon attach a new buttonhole to the waist.

Seeing as we can’t postpone our lessons another day, big brother and I delve into our school books, rereading the bits that didn’t stick and going over the questions the tests will cover, while the other sibs come down from their rooms and start they own morning rituals.

Little sister comes moving past with her small gray and black Cocker Spaniel in her arms, while the rest of her pack (the majority of the same breed) dash on ahead into the courtyard. My other sister follows suit with her own pack ten minutes later, leading her Boxer Groovy on a leash, since Groovy has developed a certain pleasure in making granddad’s life miserably, by tearing into his pants the moment he sees him.

Big brother and I get less than half an hour of going over the bits of information in when the time to get ready for our departure arrives. Leaving the dogs behind in the courtyard, I head to my room to change from work clothes into something clean and neat before we head for the car and depart.

First up is a small supermarket that will be closed at six, and therefore needs to be visited before school. Then we need to head for the home improvement warehouse to get the sink we’ve been waiting for over a month for. It still hasn’t arrived when we get there, so after some debate big brother and I pick another model–which is held in stock–and continue to roam around the store for some more screws, construction glue and several aluminum strips that we’re going to need for finishing up the counter around the new stove.

That done, it is time for school at last and after dropping us off, mom and granddad head for the supermarket for some veggies that we’ll need to make it to next week when the actual grocery shopping will be done.

Not a good day for tests on a computer while piled into a tiny room with at least five other students, and my eyes heavy with fatigue, but at least I come through four of six tests without error, and have only two wrong in the other two before today’s session is over and we head back out, to wait for our pick up.

Pleased that all the necessities are taken care of for a week–under the presumption than to emergency pops up–we head back home, where a quick meal of fries, some salad and an apple will have to do for the day’s nutrition.

We watch some TV for a bit, mostly just winding down and then start back on the kitchen.
While big brother and I set to the task of cutting out the section for the new sink, the sisters resume painting more spice drawers. They certainly get more done than us, until it becomes clear that our figure-saw won’t go through the four and a half inches of the counter and an alternative needs to be thought of. There’s some fretting, until genius strikes.
After drilling a lot of holes along a large portion of the cutout section, little sister is involuntarily volunteered to crawl into one of the drawer cases to use the saw in our stead. None of us really fit into it, so she is the only one available.

While I hang over the counter, with one hand on the saw she is directing, and the other holding the wood still for treatment, we finally manage to cut a proper opening and the new sink can be placed.
Since only a part of the metal casing can be fastened with the little hooks that come with the sink, construction glue is used on the portion that isn’t accessible from below.
Though an excellent solution, it brings a new dilemma to the fore. How do we brace it while it dries?

Ideas of placing a lot of weight on top of it are soon dismissed–there really is nothing that is heavy enough–and an alternative plan is put into action while big brother climbs on top of the counter and wedges a large beam between the high ceiling and counter instead. It works, and the metal is neatly pressed down to the counter.

Next comes the aluminum finishes. Two large strips will be placed on the outer edge of the counter, and while big brother searches for a small metal saw, I measure and prepare the strips for cutting.
Midnight is already approaching by the time the first two strips are cut, and we only attach one because there is still a lot of cleaning to be done before we can call it a night.

It looks good by the time I clear away the last bits of paint splatters and look at the end result with considerable delight.
The two sinks are different, but still match in shape and material. The counters are clean, except for the tools and supplies neatly piled against the wall, and soon we can start on the elevated center of the large kitchen island.

By this time the younger sibs come back down from whatever it is that kept them occupied up in their own quarters and with his return little brother carries with him his old CD player. He heard me lament the dying machine in my cabin, and decided to offer an alternative. His is apparently still working, so for the time being I’ll be using it instead of my own.

The day has definitely left me exhausted, but it’s well worth the effort by the time I plunk down at the table and watch an episode of “Frasier” before heading up to my quarters with the dogs in enthusiastic pursuit.

Temperatures are a little higher tonight, almost ten by the time I reach my cabin, right after the night rain has abated just a bit. The dogs hurry on into the rooms and eat their dinner while I have fifteen minutes of reading with little brother’s old CD player blasting full force from the moment I set it up.
With my daily dose of reading taken care of, I switch on the computer and go over the day’s messages.

Had another sale of W.I. Investigations/Shape Shifter today, (YAY!) and I have a message from the buyer, apparently. It is always a pleasure to hear from readers, of course, not to mention that an e-book download actually provides me with a couple of bucks in revenues. Hah.
He (the buyer) thought the story was great and said that he really liked the idea of my paranormal detective series on the overall. But, he thought that what the series really needed was a book trailer, which he could supply, since he makes the things.

It’s a wonderful idea, by any means, but at the moment simply not doable for me…which is certainly regretful. But, what with the bad economy and more than ninety dogs to feed and take care of, along with a family of seven/nine, funds are always a tricky thing all ‘round. Still, maybe some day. It would certainly be grand that’s a fact.

Ah well, that dealt with, I went through the other messages and finally ended up on today’s blog.

I do hope that what with this week’s necessities taken care of, I’ll get some more work done on the Cajun Vampire story. It is just begging me in the back of my mind, and from the sound of big brother’s complaints about not having been able to do any serious work on the short story for days now, he’s feeling it too.

Time to call it a day, I’m thinking, knowing full well that I’m bound to be late again since I totally lost track of time while having my fun on the forums and chat sites. Who needs sleep anyway?