Shaving words.

Something’s up with my alarm this morning again. It doesn’t go off, which earns me another phone call from big brother who’s wondering what’s keeping me. On days such as these, I do regret the fact that the pack cannot be released until I’ve moved my butt to the house. It puts down a serious time limit to oversleeping, which is a pity.
There are definitely days on which I wouldn’t mind an extra hour or to buried deeply under my blankets.

I slept reasonably well, all things considered, waking up still sore for some reason, and too fast too distracted to remember my dreams. Once I’ve released the dogs, go through the morning routines with relative haste, I get dressed and head for the house. Exercise day has arrived, Yay, and I’m really NOT looking forward to it.

The wind’s cold and still coming from the west, but at least the sun’s out as I climb down the last bit of the path and open the courtyard gate to let the dogs rush inside.
Since I’m late, I know that my workout’s going to be a hassle. It isn’t really doable to get a proper kick in when there are a multitude of dogs rushing back and forth as if they’ve been locked in cages for days, rather than a short night of seven hours.
Going through the motions is going to be tricky that’s a fact, but I manage to go through the entire routine without any major accidents.

What with my recent discomfort in my shoulder blades, I decide to leave the twenty or so pushups for the time being, and focus on the other motions instead, and find the tension spots relax almost instantly. It appears that skipping the rather strenuous movements were a good decision, when for the first time–since I started doing pushups–I don’t feel my back muscles knot painfully when I finish the workout.

Once I’ve had my shower and hung a big load of laundry, I eat a quick breakfast and set up behind my computer for today’s messages, writing the last few scenes and following editing session. I take only two hours to finish the latest Vampire flick, creating a rather fun-filled dialogue ending that should work really well for this particular tale.

Though it is tricky to do it this way, even big brother who is an avid romance reader like I am, is pleased with the ending I write down. It fits, we agree, starting on the editing as soon as I’ve saved the new data and click to properties.

Crap! 16684 words. This means that we have to shave off at least 1600 to meet the required amount of words, and we both agonize over the fact as we start editing. Several hours pass, each sentence we remove and shift around to get a lower word count a vicious cut into the story that really needs everything that’s written down.

I despise cutting into a story this way, seeing meticulously constructed paragraphs being shredded in favor of removing yet another word, hoping sincerely that it won’t totally ruin the story. Things like, “He ran top speed, trees and vines curling sensuously around ancient trunks” turning into rather bland “He ran top speed.” Such a pity, but what has to be done, has to be done.

This is going to be pure hell that’s a fact, when seven pages from the start it turns out that we’ve only shaved off 450 at most. It is not going to be easy, but if we manage to keep this up, we might just make it without removing an actual scene from the short story. There are still 20 pages to go and if we are able to take this amount out every six or seven pages, success might be achievable in the end.

By the time sunset arrives, I decide to stop fussing with sentences and phrases and start on the day’s dinner, while big brother stays behind to keep an eye on both computers.

We still have a good load of spaghetti from last night’s dinner, so with that in mind I slice up two mid-sized cauliflowers and bake them to crisp crusts in onions, spices and garlic, before adding some salt and sugar to enhance the taste. Next come the chopped bell peppers before I toss in the sliced noodles, a can of sweet corn and some cherry tomatoes, just for quantity and let the entire mix bake for the required amount of time. At last I add cottage cheese and Gouda, creating a rather interesting smell that gets the sibs down the stairs to see what’s for dinner.

Though I wasn’t entirely sure if the combination was going to work when I first started out, it turns out to be quite success when everyone each a liberal portion before declaring that they’re stuffed. I enjoyed it myself, needing only half an hour to let the meal process, before I get up to clean the counters and get ready for the evening’s remodeling project.

We get up one drawer cover, when we decide that the paint hasn’t hardened enough yet, and switch to constructing the upper cabinets from the last stretches of MDF that we have left from the main counter. Except for the back covers, which still need to be acquired, we have just barely enough material to build the three cabinets that will in the end form a reverted J over the counters, allowing for storage space and easy access.

While big brother and I put the sides, tops and bottoms together, the sisters sand and paint the material, until three hours after we started everything that could done today is ready and clean-up time has arrived. Some paint splatters are removed, and sawdust piles up to a solid salad bowl, until the kitchen looks clean again and we can all go our separate ways.

I can’t really find an interest in TV today, still, it’s relatively early, so I lounge in front of the tube for a bit, before I rise to give Yadzia his Leishmania shot.

This is the first of his latest treatment–his skin looks bad enough to warrant a session– and since he’s got the disease it really is a necessity to give him the shots in the next few weeks to prevent him from actually getting ill
.
The golden lab is really well behaved for the duration of the injection, a genuine relief compared to Trin Trin who has formed a serious dislike for a needle ever since the last vet trainee tested her for the disease. He needed to do up to ten bone marrow injections before finally succeeding. She went through it like a champ, never complaining once during the session that was prosecuted without anesthetic, but since then it is impossible to give her a shot without someone keeping her in a tight hold. I don’t blame her.

By then it is time for me to retire, and I head up to my cabin to find big brother digging through my bookshelves in search of some proper entertainment. It is darn cold inside the wooden structure, and the first thing I do is turn on the heater and the CD player before we get to talking about our day and our multitude of projects.

When he leaves for his own quarters, my feet are literally frozen, and I hurry through the evening rituals to settle on the bed with my computer, with blankets tenting around me.

My fingers are so cold I can barely find the keys on the board, but as the computer heats, they finally do get going and today’s Blog gets written.

Though there was a “sinking” moment there at the end of the day, it was a productive one, all things said and done.
On to the next!

Dream Story and the day.

Space was pitch black with pinpricks of stars sparkling far, far away. Silence hung heavily all around, creating a sense of doom that was slowly building up to a mighty climax.
A falling star shot passed, gliding a path against the intense blackness, leaving a burning flame in its wake. A gigantic projectile shot towards the surface, streaking through the air with a mighty roar.
It slammed into the earth full force, a huge shock wave making the tectonic plates shift and shiver. Earth, rock and dirt swept across the globe, sweeping through everything that lay in its path. Buildings shattered, trees were torn to shreds and life, as we knew it, crumbled in the years of bitter cold,–without sunlight ever penetrating the clouds–that followed.
Only few people survived, becoming little more than scavengers within the ruins that had once been a blooming civilization. Years went by, the past forgotten, as survival became a solitary goal, until at last the thick clouds hovering low in the earths atmosphere broke slowly apart.
This happened on a dark night, with only the stars shining brightly against the sheer black drop, leaving the occupants of a small colony on the fringes of the ruins awed by the sight of jewels shimmering overhead.
It was a flash of light up in the sky that made a couple of independent scavengers– roaming through the debris of a skyscraper ruin–stop their search for supplies in order to see what it was.
They stared openmouthed at the large formation of stars appearing to draw nearer, slowly beginning to take on shape. Angular structures became visible, blocky vessels of alien origin outlined by a pale blue light as they steadily descended through the earth’s atmosphere.
Frightened by the sight of what could only be ships, the couple fled into the ruins, digging deep into a basement of sorts, littered with debris that had long since been covered by thick layers of dust and sand.
A distant roar filled their ears, increasing their fear when suddenly, from the way they’d come, a pale yellow light appeared. Unable to flee, they stayed where they were, hoping against all odds that their hideout would be sufficient when a head-sized tentacle slowly winded its way into the basement.
It was almost transparent, a yellow glow pulsing through what looked like arteries as a hum echoed softly through the space. Steadily the tentacle moved further inside, slithering its way through the air like a snake, as the scavengers slowly moved from their corner and slid behind a large pile of debris, just when the tentacle’s attention focused on the spot they had just left.
Adapt at hiding, the two made their way stealthily around the room, heading toward the jagged stairs that were the only way in and out of the basement.
Hurrying towards freedom, one of the scavengers skidded on a wet patch on the floor, and turned the exact moment a hiss sounded from behind. He turned and…. I wake up.
A great dream, that will most definitely go into my files as a possible book story–though I would have liked to see what happened next. Ah well…maybe some other time. Let’s get to the day.


I didn’t get to sleep until at least seven thirty in the morning and the monster started fussing from the moment the hour of ten passed, interrupting my impressive dream brutally. She was worse then ever, actually, and I finally resorted to locking her in the back yard so I could at least sleep another hour, undisturbed, and hopefully capable of continuing where the dream has left off.

Of course, I’d forgotten to set the alarm, so I actually got half an hour extra–no dreams this time–when big brother phones to ask if something is wrong. Hah. Except for the fact that he’s phoned me awake, nothing is, of course. Considering I decided last night to take a rest day, exercise wise, it isn’t too much of a disaster so I get up and start the day.

I go to the house the way I always do. My foot feels slightly uncomfortable and I’m pretty happy about the fact that there is no laundry to hang today. I start up the computer immediately after breakfast and spent some time on the Net before starting on the book.

Still procrastinating a bit, but little more than a page from the ending, I manage to get a solid scene fitted. It’s definitely getting to be good, I’m thinking, actually looking forward to starting the editing session to see if the sense I get from it is remotely accurate.
This certainly is a first for me, the looking forward to editing part, that is. I never look forward to editing!

Managing two pages before the time, to get ready for grocery shopping and school, arrives, demanding that I shut down my computer and head on up to my cabin to get dressed. There is a chilly northwestern wind blowing in. Thick ominous clouds piling high and knocking against our mountain sluggishly change shape as thin tendrils draw nearer.
On the way down the mountain, rain comes down from the northwest angle and sunlight shines down from the southwest. It creates an impressive rainbow against the clear backdrop of the cloud-covered mountain. Quite extraordinary!

First things first, big brother and I are dropped off at the school for little over an hour behind the test computers. It goes well enough. I am able to focus since there are only two or so other students working with us in the small room, and I am pleased to see that I’ve done four of the six tests today without error.

After eighty minutes, chatting a bit with our instructor, we’re picked up by mom and grandpa again, and head for the home improvement store on the other side of town to get some more paint for the kitchen, along with clamps for when we’re going to attach the drawer covers with glue. I’m pretty pleased to find three nice sets of small clamps that look ancient and are really out of fashion what with the high-tech gadgets they sell these days. Three a pack, for only three bucks. Can’t beat a good deal like that.

That done, it’s time to go to the supermarket, and fill up the two carts with two weeks worth of supplies before we head back home.
Once there, I’m pleased to see that the sisters have already varnished the oak wood in the kitchen, and have cleaned everything so the groceries can be put away.

It takes us a good thirty minutes to get everything into place, and though little sister has made dinner, it isn’t enough to supply everyone with a full portion. Rather than dividing it all evenly, I opt to make myself roasted pita bread, stuffed with grilled cheese, peppers, onions, and fresh lettuce, and cherry tomatoes soaked in a tasty yogurt sauce. Excellent meal, that fills me up for the rest of the evening.

We watch TV for a bit, before little sister and I apply the last layer of paint on the drawer covers. Next we add sealant to the middle sink, chatting about today’s lessons and the sibs their exploits on the Net before the usual clean up needs to be done.

After wasting some time, just hanging about the evening has come to an end, and I’m heading on out with the crazy pack to start the evening rituals. Some personal messages get dealt with, along with this Blog naturally and at the end I’m once again running late.

No matter, though. At least today was not a sucky one, the way yesterday was.

Complaining, it's soothing.

Sucky days! Why are they always just lurking around the corner, waiting to pounce when you least expect it?…well, that isn’t entirely correct, I did suspect it somewhere deep down, I guess, but still, they suck. Today certainly qualifies.

I feel it the moment I wake up this morning, that gloomy mood that makes everything a genuine disaster, whether it is or not. Take my waking this morning, for instance. The monsters were making a racket, with Trin Trin feinting attacks at me until I grabbed hold of her collar and started to tug her towards the back door.

There was an interesting dream, something about a gigantic bookstore and having a pocket full of cash that allowed me to buy anything I wanted, but it faded too fast for me to make a proper memory of the images. I blame it on what happened next, however.

Knight was bouncing up and down, barking right into my face when I need to scoop down to take a good hold on the Boxer, forcing me to back up, lest he’ll slam right into me. So I do, my back to the foot-end of the bed and stepping right onto a long stretch of wood that came off the underside of my bed sometime during the night.
I set my bare feet…yes both of them…right on top of two protruding screws sticking out.
Gawd!
What are the chances of hitting them both at the same time? I know for sure that if I had meant to, I would have missed at least one, but there you have it: Perfect and involuntary good aim.

So, unable to do much of anything, what with holding Trin Trin the Monster in a viselike grip–she’s getting more enthusiastic every day, darn it–and Knight II prancing in front of me, I pretty much stand there clenching my teeth together as the sensation shoots up my legs.
I end up snarling at Knight II to “get the f**k away!”…I know, I’m not my most eloquent in the morning, but what was I to do, really? I was literally stuck in place.

At last the Great Dane backs up, allowing me to pry my feet off the wood and toss Trin Trin out the back door in a single motion–along with the darn piece of wood. It gets stuck in the fence, bouncing there for a bit making a racket.

Slamming the door shut, while Trin Trin is distracted, I suck in a deep fortifying breath before I hurry towards the front to let the other crazy pack members out.
My feet hurt like heck, as I stand there trying to decide whether or not I’m bleeding, without actually managing to gather the nerve to raise my feet to check.

I so cannot deal with this on an early morning…but I roll onto my heels and stagger back into the bedroom, knowing that I really should take stock of the damage. There are some words, unsuited for polite company that I mutter, when I feel a distinct wetness under my right foot and gather antiseptic and band aids before I drop down on the bed to chance a peek.

My left foot–I’m saving the moist feeling one for last–turns out to be intact, with only a deep indentation with some scratched skin right there on the round fleshy part under my big toe. Sighing, I finally lift up the right one and scowl at the small round hole, in the exact same spot as on the other foot, seeping blood onto my blanket. It’s not too deep, and though it burns some, the damage is minimal.

After watching the oxidized water sizzle on it for a minute. I mop up the spill and slap on a band-aid before I get dressed and head out of my cabin, berating the monsters constantly. They’re not impressed at all, of course, storming down the mountain at top speed and almost knocking me off my unsteady feet when I open the gate and jump aside in the nick of time.

I’m limping just a little, still sore from yesterday’s workout and more than just grumpy by the time I get to the house with my knickers in a serious twist about life in general. Odd how a bad day can make a life that seemed fine just 24 hours ago, seem like complete crap.

I’m not good company today, at least not at the start of the day, and I respond to big brother’s dialogue with grunts and monosyllables on the most part as I head for the laundry lines to hand up today’s batch.
Though not at all daunted by my mood, the dogs do give me the courtesy of a wide berth as I set about the morning chores, and then have a quick breakfast. After forty minutes I settle down with my computer and try to fight the mood by going past the messages, forums and everything else that can get my mind off…whatever depressing thought I’m thinking at that time.

It helps a little, I admit, especially since I find out that I can now order a proof copy of the cheaper W.I. version without needing to take out a mortgage on the house to pay for the shipping. Hah.
It’s a digest size, which will allow me to offer the W.I. Investigations stories for half the price. Good news there at least, and it cheers me considerably when I put in the order and switch over to the latest writing project.

I manage two to three pages, finding myself procrastinating for some reason now that the ending is just a few thousand words away, and by the time dusk settles, I give up the slow battle and turn off the computer to eat the dinner littler sister has prepared.
Spaghetti and fresh tomato sauce go down well, even though it makes me eat just a few grams too much. It is a definite side effect of tasty food. It spells disaster on the most part. I know right then and there that immobility is necessary for at least an hour, and flop down on an armchair before the meal can come up again.

I don’t make it through the hour, however. Though I always enjoy Grey’s Anatomy, I’m really not in the mood today, and head for the kitchen to see what I can do to keep my hands busy now that the meal has settled enough to risk activity.
Painting. It needs to get done for the big drawer covers, and some more spice drawers, if we want to continue with the kitchen project.

While I’m making room on the counter, and placing a large piece of cloth on top of the surface, little sister comes into the kitchen and decides to join me in the chore.
While I sand down the first layer, she starts rolling the paint on.

Working side by side, we chitchat some; smiling at little Djoti perched on one of the stair's steps, snoozing a little, while keeping his focus on little sister nonetheless. She says he's doing well, appearing to suffer from little discomfort due to the recent operation. I've no doubt that the medication he's getting helps a lot, but still, he doesn't need the full prescribed dose of painkillers to get through the day comfortably.

Actually managing to enjoy the little collaboration that takes a good hour and a half, I’m sorry that we’re finished. It allowed my to suppress any and all depressing thoughts that want to run through my mind, right until we finish, clean up and a rerun of “Bones” has passed.

The moody blues appear to be a bug going ‘round the house today, since big brother admits that he’s feeling it too, along with the other sibs. Must be the weather. It rained during the night, and though it cleared after sundown, the atmosphere feels heavy in more ways that one.

Luckily “Dexter” is on German TV tonight, and it manages to distract us well enough until it is time to leave for my cabin and get ready for the night.
I do try to console myself with the theory that you need to have some downers in order to fully appreciate the uppers, but they do totally suck!

I switch the music on full force the moment I get to my room–momentarily pleased with the fact that the floors are still beautifully clean–feed the dogs, and switch on the computer ASAP to distract myself on the Net. It does a well enough job, I guess, since the chats and the likes tend to consume me, winding me down for the night to come.

Well, that was the rant for the day. A good complaining session is definitely soothing to the soul. Hah.

Going on thirty...and feeling it. Hah!

I feel every single day of my thirty years on this “third rock from the sun” when I wake up this morning and try to get out of bed. It can’t be normal, I think, as literally every muscle in my body protests with a simple movement such as sliding off the bed.

A body isn’t supposed to feel worn-out before actually reaching thirty, is it? Of course not, they’re just years for crying out loud, and a wee bit of exercise for a four months, should make such things less painful, rather than the other way around. It’s downright weird that’s what it is. Whatever is causing this particular effect deserves a special kind of torture for sure. Hah.

If I didn’t know any better I’d think I’d just started my workouts yesterday. It’s just ridiculous, and I tell the body so while I shuffle through my cabin, going through the morning rituals at half the usual speed. Bulls**t! I say over and over again, unwilling to believe that these aches are warranted, and after a little while the whining joints finally start functioning enough for me to head on to the house at a moderate pace.

The workout is looming ahead while I make my way down, whistling for the dogs to get their butts into the courtyard and grabbing the Monster Boxer before she can dash into the house, ahead of me.
Grandpa is right behind me, and since Trin Trin’s crazy antics towards him are more than a little scary, I look for her leash the moment I step down into the seating area. It takes me a good five minutes to locate it, hidden underneath a folded blanket on a chair, and snap it on her collar the moment grandpa enters. Right on time!

Used to the procedure the Boxer climbs up onto the chair and sits there, looking bored the way she usually does. It’s amazing how she can have that silly impassionate expression on her flat face, but give her an inch (in this case no leash) and she’ll pounce on either grandpa or the first dog–if it isn’t a member of her own pack–that walks past. Her name isn’t monster for nothing, I tell you. She is exactly that on a multitude of occasions.

It’s not meanness that makes her jump on top of a dog, or a person, really. I know that full well whenever I watch her watch another living being with dangerous intent in her eyes. I also know that when she tries to bite me–or someone else–that it isn’t malice that makes her do it. She just doesn’t understand that what she does causes damage to man and animal alike. It’s all fun and games for her, and it doesn’t help at all that she doesn’t experience pain the way other dogs do.

Once Trin Trin gets riled, she’ll fight to the death if someone doesn’t jump in and literally yanks her out of a fray–in most cases bleeding all over since the other dogs do not accept her fighting antics at all. On the rare occasions that she manages to start a fight, she’ll be digging into some unsuspecting dog while two to four dogs are attacking her from behind. She’ll barely notice while she’s in the thick of things, which scares me at times. Normal sensibilities seem to fly right out of the window the moment she’s got her mind set on something.

In all honesty I should have put her down the moment these dangerous tendencies of hers started to show, but when she’s not fighting she is the sweetest dog imaginable. Affectionate, loving, gentle: all those things that make her an amazingly sweet dog. But her bad breeding is definitely showing in her aggression.

So, I made a deal with her several years ago. “One real bite towards humans and I’ll have you put to sleep permanently.” Strangely enough she seems to understand the deal fully, and though she still tries at times, my lower arms are no longer filled with big swollen bruise, the way they were before the deal.

There have been some close calls for sure in the past, but none that have broken the deal we made so far. She takes close supervision, lots of time latched to a leash in the hours that she needs to share the house with the rest of the pack, but on the overall her behavior is manageable. She doesn’t actually mind the leash, either. As a matter of fact being leashed appears to calm her somewhat, which is a lucky thing since it is a permanent precaution that she needs.
I do hope that she won’t break the deal, though, for I’d hate to have to carry out the particularly nasty thread.

But enough about things I cannot change, no matter how much I’d want to. Back to the day:

Rather than give myself time to talk myself out of today’s workout, I change into my exercise clothes immediately, starting with the warm-ups before the first thought actually manages to surface. The aches and pains jump to the fore immediately, and my face is a tight mask of frustration as I need to literally force my limbs to go through every motion. I actually get pretty angry about the twinges, since they aren’t supposed to be there now that I’ve fully adjusted to the routines, and apply more force than I usually do.

Using that frustration and grinding my teeth, I move over to the punching bag for the “fun” part of the session. The kicks are painful, as are the punches, but in the end I get through today’s workout and hurry towards the shower in hopes that the steaming hot water will ease some of the tension that makes moving practically impossible.

It does, much to my relief, feeling decidedly better–if overly tired–by the time I return to the living and find that there is no laundry to hang today. That improves my mood considerably, while I have a quick breakfast and then settle at my computer with heavy eyelids.

Since the messages will only distract me for at least a couple of hours, I decide to skip them entirely and get down to business with the Vampire story once more.
I add two more pages to last night foray, and then fit the loose scene into the story with another three until there are only four more pages to add before this story is done.

While working, big brother and I discuss an idea I had last night for a sequel–this time novel length–and agree that it’s a good basis for the next vampire story. It will add to the first, we’re sure, and writing it should be a genuine pleasure since it will be about the sister of the first character, and therefore allows for an expansion of the characters that drew us into this series in the first place.

Sundown has already occurred by the time I decide to call a halt to today’s writing session and warm up the last piece of pizza that’s left of yesterday’s dinner. What with the distraction of writing, I’ve failed to notice the others already eating their fair share, and am the last one to start with dinner. Apparently it was good, ‘cause I’d figured we could eat it for at least three days, only to find that with this last piece for me all is gone.

Unexpectedly, a panic attack hits then–for no good reason I can think of, really–making my stomach revolt, and allowing me to keep it in just barely as I quickly decide to distract myself by heading for the kitchen to see what I can do today.

With big brother gruffly telling me to breathe, I desperately look around for something to focus on, and, per his instructions, finally settle on measuring out the cover plates of the drawers that still need to be cut.

It’s an affliction I’ve been suffering from for three years now. Those panic attacks that’ll sneak up on me when I least expect it. Though I have tried herbal remedies and even Valium to curb the breathtaking episodes, the past year has taught me that getting down to all-consuming physical work really works best.

Within ten minutes the tight feeling in my chest subsides, allowing me to breathe calmly as I continue to cut out eight of nine drawer covers, until the wood supply runs out.

Something goes wrong halfway through the cutting, however. The circle saw shorts out the power for a moment, and though we try to figure out what is wrong, we can’t get the plugs in one section of the old kitchen to work again, casting half of the project into gloomy shadows.

Across from me, on the other side of the counter–now badly lit–the sisters are sanding and priming the covers, so that we can paint them with the first layer of red paint tomorrow. On the side big brother is working on a fold out waste-bin that we want to build into the counter, and is getting along well enough to suit us all.

It is not really satisfying work, if for no other reason than the fact that the end result won’t be visible until we actually start to attach the covers on the drawers in the next few days, but still, it needs to be done.

Little brother stays upstairs again today with the promise of a grand surprise in the near future, and since little Djoti needs to be kept under observation anyway it doesn’t matter. Besides, four pairs of hands are adequate numbers now that the heaviest work on the counters has been done, and it is all about finishing the cosmetics of the whole.

Nearing midnight we finish cleaning up, and after checking the counters for splatters we disperse to our chosen locations throughout the house.
While the sisters disappear to the second floor, big brother and I settle in front of the TV in order to watch some Law & Order reruns, until it’s time for me to go to my room.

Feeling considerably tired, now that today’s activities are over, I’m not at all pleased to come to my cabin to find that some pesky dog has managed to sneak inside again and spread out the remainder of cushion fillings all over the floors. It is everywhere, and I swear aplenty as I set myself to cleaning incredible the mess up.

Four garbage bags get filled in the end, and the cushions my dogs prefer to sleep on are unsalvageable. I don’t know which dog does this nasty business, but I’ll be sure to give him/her a piece of my mind when…if ever…I find out the identity. This is the third time now that this has happened, and though on any other day I might laugh at the ingeniousness of the pesky dog responsible, I fail to find it amusing when all I really want to do is crawl into bed and go to sleep.

Since I have to throw the ruined cushions out, this particular problem shouldn’t be occurring again in the near future, though, so that’s one positive thing that came out of it, I guess.
My dogs don’t make sweeping the floors an easy task, however, and keep spreading the pile I’ve just swept together all through the cabin, because they are impatient for their meal to start.

At last, after forty minutes the floor is clean at last, allowing me to feed the dogs and head for bed and some relaxation on the Net until it’s time to turn in for the night.

I do wonder what tomorrow will bring…no workout, thankfully. Hah.