And, so, it was time to turn around and head home.
Notes: A few somethings that are less than domestic about HjB...
- A tool I love: the spade shovel. I am a mother mucker.
- A tool I hate: the hammer. Wild. Whack. Fest.
- Favorite object: my red cowgirl boots, but my husband’s boots do nicely as slip on, “I’m taking this out to the trash barrel.”
- Something I find randomly inspiring: old women in old pickup trucks. Thumbs up. You go girl.
- Something you will find by the coffee pot every morning: a coffee, sugar, milk/cream mess that I will get around to when I am good and ready.
- Something you can always talk me in to: heavy whipping cream.
- Something I do every day that I have to talk myself in to: showering
- Something I do quarterly (or when tasked) that I really really have to talk myself in to: shaving my legs
- Something you will never catch me doing: sewing, knitting or crochet.
- Something you will catch me doing only if my mother is on her way or if I believe I will get paid: matching socks.
- Household items not allowed in my house (no matter what) mostly because I believe they are 1. dangerous or 2. cause unnecessary work that will somehow be tasked to me (the woman), which would offend me: a mechanical sewing machine and the iron/ironing board combo.
- Common household item I cannot live without under any circumstance: coffee pot.
- Favorite accessory: a hat to fit any mood. The bigger the hat the better. Lately it has been an old black cowboy hat that I confiscated from my man. But, like the heavy whip, I can be talked in to anything.
- Things I forget to bring when I am traveling: Either my toothbrush or my hair brush, but not both.
- The most domestic (and weirdest) thing about me: The laundry: It is all my fault there is a giant pile because I do have particulars. I cannot handle too big a wash load; or wet clothes that are not dried right away; And so, I double rinse and triple fluff. Every. Single. Load. I have no issue with how the clothes are folded but nobody is as invested in the laundry as myself, so it is always mine to fold.
...And just because I am feeling it, I found the blog notes I lost to cyber space last Tuesday night so I might as well open that can of worms and insert my foot here: Keep in mind I was on location in Tonopah working my fool head off and without the fam.
‘Twas the eve of Wild Wednesday. 8/30/2011. A gentle breeze is through yonder window that will wake me with its light. Already I can imagine the chucker browsing in the street and yard below when I rise to greet tomorrow. You know, Wednesday.
At the moment I am slightly humming with the satisfaction of two days a workin’. I have seen more than several hundred familiar faces and feel like I fit right back into the mix. Well, that is blind hope for you. Tumbleweed wishes for happy trails and dust tails.
I have nothing wild planned, but have no doubt my and your Wednesday will be as wild as that which proceeded. Are you tired with this business of living a week at a time? Do we dare call it a club? Ah, I say over the hump to Friday, and if we are lucky, it is a four day weekend ahead.
Rest will be good and sweet with that comforting 10 mph breeze. Cheers to the rest of the week.