The clock says it’s 7:22, but the clock lies. Or my body does. I wish all to heck that governments would quit trying to pretend they can add or subtract time from the day.<\/p>\n
The “fall back” change is usually the easier of the two, but today the sky is leaden, there’s no warmth in the air, and the rain will be settling in any moment. I’m still lying slug-a-bed and would happily remain that way were it not for Ava and the cat staring so accusingly.<\/p>\n
With the aid of a space heater I’ve managed to get my sleeping nook to a not-quite-toasty 65 degrees (instead of the 59 it’s been falling to lately; need more attic insulation) and I’m not ready yet for the household critters to win their silent argument that it’s time for breakfast, attention, and (for Ava) walkies.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
Yesterday was a break from the long binge of writing and editing — if by “break” you mean moving spare doors, drywall, furniture, and paint cans around so you can prep walls and ceilings for the next round of home improvement. Not to mention the stress of wondering where all the tools and spare supplies will reside once the final room has been turned into a livable space, rather than a place to store bathtubs and operate the chop saw.<\/p>\n
The Wandering Monk did the heavy lifting as usual, but I was and am beat. A lot of the day was spent on ceilings. I hate working on ceilings.<\/p>\n
Well, mostly. Actually, now that the Monk patched a couple rotted sections of the bedroom-to-be’s crude old wood and we stapled the vapor barrier in place, I’m looking forward to the next (solo) round of ceiling work: installing tongue-and-groove pine. This is “even a girl can do it” work, and it’s a project that can be done an hour here, half a morning there. It creates gratifying, aesthetically pleasing results, besides. (Pix to come, I promise; as soon as there’s something more interesting to show than plastic sheeting.)<\/p>\n
Alas, pretty progress and pix must wait. I promised a book chapter. And a 350-word marketing blurb. Meanwhile, the four-leggeds are winning the staring contest, so I must get up and go …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The clock says it’s 7:22, but the clock lies. Or my body does. I wish all to heck that governments would quit trying to pretend they can add or subtract time from the day. The “fall back” change is usually the easier of the two, but today the sky is leaden, there’s no warmth in the air, and the rain will be settling in any moment. I’m still lying slug-a-bed and would happily remain that way were it not for Ava and the cat staring so accusingly. With the aid of a space heater I’ve managed to get my sleeping…<\/p>\n