This time we didn't even have to go anywhere to lose a small collection of important stuff.
We had a great hideaway hermit weekend at Farm Suite. Sarah made pints and pints of strawberry jam, Madeleine made yeasty, yummy egg bread and I made only the best pie crust to ever grace the Suite. (Just there? I almost took credit for the whole pie. But Madeleine peeled and cored and sliced the apples, so I would have been failing to properly attribute where it's due. Again.)
Speaking of AGAIN, Sarah's glasses are lost in the flotsam and jetsam of the weekend. I do believe we'll call this an unschooling day. The girls are deep in their books (Nancy Drew "Secret of the Lost Locket" and "Peter And the Starcatchers," a prequel to Peter Pan, written by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. Madeleine likes it very much, thank you.). Gracie is deep into her finger paints. I am deep into freaking out about my card reader.
We, and I do mean I, cleaned out my cubicle this weekend. You'd sorta have to see it to believe it. My office was originally a walk-in closet, or more likely a coat closet for the church back when folks bundled up for the wagon ride to Sunday services. The best thing I can say about it is: built-ins. It has massive bookcases and closets and cupboards which are duly crammed with fabric and papers and books and my cherished vintage typewriter collection. The rest of it is big enough for my vintage schoolteacher's desk and one cushy reading chair. Period.
The view out of my office window is lovely. I can see the B&B's red roof and their garden. I can, if I crank my neck around, see the chicken chalet off to the right. It's not the best view the house owns, but it's my view. And now I can spin around in my executive chair (hitting my knees on the desk drawer and then the reading chair) and see a much neater office behind the desk.
I spent the weekend organizing, deleting and re-organizing the office because, as things go around here, this closet-turned-cubicle is right off our dining room. And since the dining room is right off the front entrance, I'll let you take a wild guess behind which closed door we tend to do the dump-and-dash.
HOWEVER. I am now turning over a new leaf. My office is my sanctuary; it's the Mommy Zone. It's the place I take my time-outs when I've been naughty. (For a long time the girls took this literally. I crack myself up.) So if the office is all cleaned out (mostly), why-oh-why is my card reader missing?! I can't show you any of the sparkling jam photos. I can't show you Madeleine up to her elbows in dough. Sigh.
I hope the card reader turns up soon. And I hope Sarah's glasses aren't in a jar of jam. Oh, and the book I lost? I mean misplaced? It's "Why I'm Like This," by Cythia Kaplan. I feel awful about this since it's part of The Suburban Correspondent's book club. She finally mailed it to me, I'm halfway through it (very, very funny), and now it has vanished. I'll have to check the girls' bookshelves. Crikey.
4 comments:
Crap! I can even lose a *comment* on accident. Calamity Kate, I'm sorry. It's me, not you.
I saw your blurb about the comma debate and was curious if there was some consensus; or if we must do with the o so boring established norm. Have you ever read Garrison Kiellor? He never bothers to use the parenthetical,opting instead for the extended footnote. Too cool!
Hey... I'm just jealous that you can SEE your desk and have a space to call your own.
Jason suggested reorganizing "until we move into a real house"... =)
some day ~ for now we dream!
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