mired oxen

my daughter's science fair project: test subject barley

Have you ever had one of those days when numerous of your oxen wander into the mire?  If so, then you can completely relate to my weekend.  I had planned to post my book, finish up the interviews for my blog tour, blog every day and do the laundry.  Here's what I got:

Friday night, 1.3.14:  The sheet rock guy shows up at 5:15 to tape and mud our basement.  He brings his cute, easy-going kid along to keep him company.  We have a super-small house (about 1800 feet), so my daughter barricades herself in her bedroom to avoid interacting.  9:25, the sheet rock guy leaves.

Saturday day, 1.4.14:  I'm psyched to blog and write only to learn my husband has to work and therefore I have to cover various things in the basement with plastic.  I cover said various things only to learn my daughter has not started on her science project powerpoint presentation.  So I help her go through her data and begin said presentation.  I'm just finishing up when the sheet rock guy and his cute, easy-going kid show up to sand and do the second coat of mud.  Said daughter vacates to her room; I cook dinner.

Sunday, 1.5.14:  I'm psyched to write, only to find out that said sheet rock guy is coming at 10:00.  The entire house fills with dust; that stuff can creep around anything.  My husband and I spend five hours vacuuming, mopping, cleaning, etc.  Said daughter helps by shoveling snow off the deck.

Tomorrow is another day . . . .

2014, at last

A New Year's morning in Idaho

Maybe it's just me, but it felt really good today to write '2014.'  I spent the morning doing paperwork and so I wrote the date a lot.  And every time I did it felt fabulous, as though my fingers could control the sunrise.

I don't consider myself a suspicious person (unless we're talking finding pennies) but there was something about last year's date that weighed heavy on my mind.  It was a good enough year.  It was busy.  But overall, last year seemed long, exhausting and a bit stressful.  Last year was, in many ways, difficult. 

But this year feels like flight, like it can only bring good things.  I look forward to what I've planned--and to what has yet to present itself.  This year will be awesome ... and I'm going to enjoy the ride.

a New Year Stealfie

New Year Greetings from Stealth

Greetings from the fabulously cold clean air of Idaho.  We've been out walking today and Stealth couldn't stand being left behind.  Once he endured my husband treating him as a stuffed snowball he settled down, snapped a Stealfie, then tucked himself into the hood of my daughter's coat.

Ya'll should know, Stealth has plans for 2014.  Intense, world-dominating plans.  (His 2014 mantra: To Heck with the yet-unborn Xavier, The French Bulldog.  Je suis ici et maintenant.)  Anyway, the Stealth project I like best is his graphic novel.  I mean, who knew a stuffie could draw? 

So as soon as I post my little self-help book, which goes up on Kindle tomorrow, I'll help Stealth with his plans (if this thing had audio you'd hear him humphing zut in the background).  Be patient, my dust-bunny-hunting friend!  Fine art takes time . . . .

In the meantime, Happy New Year to all!