I have to gather up all the pop bottles and cans, and put them in the car.
I have to gather up all the dirty dishes.
I have to empty the dishwasher of clean dishes (see I have plenty of cupboard space, but I wait until I need the dishwasher to put clean dishes away--go figure).
I have to fill the dishwasher with dirty dishes and turn it on. (Funny how that "turning on" thing has sometimes escaped me--and the following weekend, I find the dishwasher still full of dirty dishes? Oh, wait, I suppose I should have blamed that one on my husband, who forgot to turn it on, right?)
I have to run nails for my husband so he can start weaving wicker plantstands.
I have to go on a grocery run because Mandy has run out of food...and we're running out of some things around here, too. While there, I can turn in the pop bottles! Imagine that?
And I have to work on my shawl. I'm not sure how I'm going to fit it in--as I'm sure that my husband will want to do two runs at the very least, if not 3--and I will be busy all day putting nails in the forms for him, which has been my job for going on 9 years. He offered for me to work on my shawl in the barn, which yes, I can sit down and knit in the barn--and I did just that a few days ago on a dishcloth, however, I'm not taking chances of fiberglass resin getting on my shawl, as the stuff does not come out in the wash, sticks forever to anything fabric, and there's also the hay to think about. Were I to drop the shawl, even once, it would be RUINED. So, the answer to that was
"unless you can come up with a 95% clean room out here, the answer to that one is a flat *NO*"
And that was that.
And so, at present, I'm enjoying a cup of coffee and blogging.
There is something funny that I want to share, however. I got an email from my friend and ex-sister in law, which had my ex-husband's email on it. Apparently, he (or perhaps his wife) sent a joke to her, and she forwarded it to me without deleting the addresses from it, which is something she does pretty regularly. In any case, it told me that he still has that old yarhoo address. So when a funny one came MY way from another source that made me laugh from my toes all the way to my lips, I forwarded it to my friends and to my ex. (Notice how I left him separate from my friends? Freud slips up again.)
I have been watching to see if he checks his email, and I haven't seen him online at all recently, so it will likely be a while before he sees it, but when he does, it's very likely he'll delete it out of hand, IF he sees it at all, and it's too bad, because it's REALLY FUNNY.
I'll relay it here, for your pleasure, editted a bit, as I don't remember exactly how it goes, but the ending is the same.
Setting: Courtroom, judge, jury, defendant and lawyers. A little old lady is on the stand answering questions.
Lawyer: Would you state your name for the court please?
Lady: My name is Edith Hill.
Lawyer: Thank you Edith. How old are you?
Edith: I am 85 years old next month!
Lawyer: Yes Ma'am, and can you tell us the events that occurred on the day in question?
Well, I was at home, on my front porch swing, on a nice warm spring evening, enjoying the sound of the chirping frogs, when I saw a young man lurking about in my yard behind the bushes. I didn't think much of it, boys like to play in my yard sometimes to try and scare me sometimes, but this time was very different!
Lawyer: And how was it different, Edith?
Edith: Well, eventually, this boy got up enough nerve, and next thing I know, he's sitting with me, right there on my swing! I was shocked! He startled me so!
Lawyer: What happened then?
Edith: Well he leaned over and he said things in my ear that I haven't heard in decades--my Harold died early in his 60's and I've been alone all these years. Why, I haven't heard that sort of language in quite a long time! But the memory of Harold was so strong, that I just couldn't help myself, and I started to get a little excited, and he was a nice looking boy, so...
Lawyer: Go on...
Edith: Well, then he started stroking my leg, first on the top of my thigh, and then he reached in between, and started to touch my inner thighs. Well, I just couldn't help myself! Before I knew it I was laying on my back in the swing screaming "I can't take it anymore, young man! Take me now!"
Lawyer: Oh my god, Edith! Then what happened?
Edith: Well, then he said "April Fool". So I shot him.
Now that's funny right there.
*****Here's a pic of my husband in the wicker room in our barn. He's hard at work weaving a plant stand.
And here's a pic of the final product,
although it looks much better with a Boston Fern in the basket--
And a view from my flower garden...
And a view from my flower garden...