Up way too early this morning, seeing that school hasn’t begun, and I blame a dog.
Nothing like waking to warm breath panting on your neck, accompanied by anxious little whines.
He didn’t even want his breakfast.
So I’m running around doing the morning chores (pool, garden) and about ready to move on to the walk. And then there will be some cleaning and writing.
All of my good intentions yesterday vanished in a puff of SYTYCD and I must recalibrate and make up for it.
I’m still working through Jane Vandenburgh’s Architecture of the Novel which I am enjoying and parsing slowly. It may be one of those things I have to reread. All I know, is that I read four or five pages (or a section) and I’m excited to write.
Not a bad thing at all.
In other news, the Middle Child won a three-day all expense paid trip to Texas (My response? That’s a prize?!) which will, however, put him in contact with many people across the nation who could very well want to hire him. The award also looks good on his resume. Not a Bad Thing, despite Texas. I don’t know what they’re doing with the dogs during this time, but I suspect they may be here.
With luck, I should be back at school by then, and the Spousling home.
And yes, that return home next week of his? Not so fast. It’ll be the week after.
By then I should be ready to stuff Harley in his arms and run far far away. Even if it is only to school.
Meanwhile, the Slug has worked with two prescription fires this week and fought free of the razor wire that she found with her shins. My suggestion that she add shin guards to her olive green pants was not received well.
The Eldest Child wants a motorcycle now. (Like mountain climbing and snowboarding/skiing in avalanche country and surfing aren’t enough. At least those activities are limited to two days a week. A motorcycle would increase his danger factor to 100% of the year.)
I should give him Harley.