The room had gotten brighter, so it had to be somewhere near seven in the AM. I was still in bed, finger-fencing with Zoe when the dogs went spontaneously to Defcon One. I swear they were shaking the walls.
I listened, heard nothing but dogs. Listened again: Some crooning noises outside, might be chickens, might be coyotes. Certainly not hearing tank engines, and if you’re getting me out of bed before I’m ready on a chilly morning it’d better involve tanks. Or SWAT teams in horse trailers at the very least.
Looked out the window again, and here came Landlady’s dog Dharma. Friendlies. Grumble. It takes me a while to get downstairs from a completely sacked-out condition. If there’s a solution to that, I haven’t found it.
Having finally done so, I opened the door and released the hounds. Ghost has been having a schizophrenic week, with all his friends here. He completely ignored whatever he’d been barking at so viciously a moment before and catapulted himself off into the bush not to be seen again. Ian, however, was clearly visible in the front yard. He came to deliver rosemary and pick up eggs, at the beginning of a very busy day.
*I needed to get my shit-shoveling out of the way.
*I needed to clean the dutch oven (bread yesterday), drop it off at Landlady’s because she’s making something dutch-oven-related for supper.
*I needed to canvass the neighborhood, find Ghost, and get both the boys into Gitmo. S&L are having small children over, and he’s not welcome to weekend with them. He is not wrapping his mind around that very happily. I understand it: Ghost is really not child-safe. Ghost, alas, does not understand it at all.
*L chose that moment to call: They’re done with my chimney-sweeping gear, and can she get some yeast from me? No problem, that’s probably where I’d find Ghost anyway.
*I needed to get back home in time to make rosemary bread for the fore-mentioned supper.
*I needed to finish that in time to be of service, since Landlady is working on her pressure pump and Ian is fixing his powershed roof from where the contractors tried to put a tractor through it.
You, my socially-connected friends, probably consider that a typical start to a day on a long weekend. I consider it completely discombobulating.