Spent the day assembling all this. A wardrobe for coats because my porch really is too cold in winter and going to get colder when I put an entry door between the porch and the main house. And the bank of storage to tie it all together….at the right height for the boys to surveil neighbourhood comings and goings. A new wooden chair will likely find a home where the whale on the floor is. Bit by bit, my living room is transforming.
12 hours of sleep last night. Managed some productivity today. Heading to bed at 8:30. Sleep sleep and more sleep.
That is all. In bed before 9 pm.
One more day. We can do this. And then two days of sleeping as much as I want.
When you’re trying to kick a persistent eye infection and you’ve done so well for 6 days to use the eye drops 4 times per day, at least 4 hours apart and on the seventh day you dose at 5 am and then forget until you’re driving home at 7 pm so you dose as soon as you get in the door and then try to stay awake to dose sorta close to 4 hours later but you give up at 9:15 because you’re desperate to go to sleep. When that happens, bed feels really good.
Bread and butter can totally be dessert. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
That is all.
Breakfast in bed. Fresh air and hands in the dirt. Dinner with friends. Sunday Funday.
First line dried sheets and first burger of the season. Mmmmmmmm.
With smaller bandwidth lately, I am slow going about settling dad’s affairs. I need mom and dad’s marriage certificate to apply for the death benefit and dad’s old age security on mom’s behalf. I was sure it would either be tucked into the bible (dad’s wedding gift to mom) or in their wedding album or scrap book. But no, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Applied to vital stats for a copy (thank you fellow public servants for some help) and retrieved it from my mailbox last night. It is a treasure. Witnessed by my Uncle Al and Aunt Vera. Strangely, it says the marriage was on August 15 and registration was filed the day after – but they were married on August 21. Maybe they did things different back then. Here’s the best part – the bride and groom needed to state their marital status going into this union. The choices were divorced, widowed or bachelor/spinster. OK I can get behind dad being called a bachelor at 27. But mom a spinster at 26? Grateful for progress.
sistabuttafly 