… it’s the day we get ready for Sunday. That’s the song we learned in church when I was little. Only the girls sang it as far as I remember. Ha.
I have the front room nicely tidied, although it always needs more dusting and vacuuming. Behind the big desk it still messy, but that’s nothing new. I need to dust and rearrange the cover for the dollhouse. that will actually be a pleasant chore once I get to it. Getting to it though, ugh.
Today I got outside, finally. Rolled up the big hose and got it into the lean to. Got the bucket of small rocks over to the main water valve heads under the bushes and spread around, broke up some of the dirt on my scalloped flowerbed border. Tossed the broken bucket they were in. Weed whacked along the back beds, and even “mowed” with it a little. I wore my new padded gloves, took breaks and did hand stretches. That helped a lot. I filled a bin with leaves and twigs from the west bed, pulled some grass. It’s not perfect, but it is better. More raccoon poop than I like, so I sprayed the minty pest repellent. Hopefully it helps. The neighbor is working in his yard, fence posts are being dug, and that cheers me up. The sooner their fence is up, the happier I will be.
There is still so much to do. I need to get the hooks up on the garage for the Tibetan flags, clear the low garage gutters, get all those twigs and branches disposed of, do something with the ancient cardboard. There’s the roses, and the rain barrels. Unfortunately, my simple hour of work has given the tendonitis in my right hand, below my thumb, the signal for a flare up. I had to dig out the hand brace. Annoying, and so restrictive. I can’t do anymore yardwork today, no sewing or painting. I might be able to get the laundry folded. It’s clean, at least.
The washing machine is squeaking. The swamp cooler needs to be winterized, the lawn mowed. These are things I cannot do myself. I guess I make calls on Monday.
And like that, I have The Sad. Not unexpected, but it sucks. Time for a cup of tea and TV.