Just 24 more hours, just 24 more hours. I think I can, I think I can, I . . . .
It's getting down to the wire now. I wish My Girl didn't have a day job so I could send her out on all the errands. Too, she's going to be out of town tomorrow, so I can't count on her to pick up the coffee, cake, etc. I think I need figure out how to keep a VERY part-time "employee" on the back burner. That said and in theory, this SHOULD be the first and last of so much prepping. After this, I'll need (and be able) to keep the gallery up at customer-ready standards.
I don't know what happened last night. The clocks in the house confused me somethin' terrible. Looking at the clock in the Davis weather console when I got home, it read 12:31. Good! I thought I'd left town later than that (would have meant me getting home later, too, obviously). I'd brought some work home to do at the dining room table, uninterrupted (as I often am at my office). But, when I walked into the kitchen to heat some water for tea, that clock read 2:20 . . . which would really be 1:20 since I haven't had a chance to change it following Daylight Savings Time. But, I knew that had to be wrong 'cause the other clock read 12:31. It must have stopped, I figured. Twenty minutes later, though, it read 2:40. HUH? I checked the livingroom clock. Also 2:40 (haven't changed that one yet, either). What the . . . ?! I went upstairs where all the clocks ARE set to the correct time, and it was, indeed, just 15 minutes or so before 2:00 AM! Ugh. Okay, no time to do that work, I needed to go to bed so I could get up with the 8:00 alarm.
HA! Despite the fact that the kittens were play fighting all over me on the bed AND despite the fact that I'd turned on the radio to help wake me up as soon as the alarm went off, I didn't get up until just after 10:00. I guess my body needed closer to 8 hours of sleep than a paltry six.
So, I gotta run. Today's THE day. Gotta have it looking all ready to go by the time I lock the office door tonight.
Oh, a quick update from the homestead: Maisy finally pooped last night, I'm THRILLED to say! I hadn't written aabout it earlier both because I felt like a bad dog mother AND because I didn't want to make the situation too "real": I gave her and Tucker both a deer leg from-the-knee-down to chew on the other night. In, quite literally, 30 minutes - maybe 45, tops - Maisy barked at the front door, asking for more. She'd EATEN the entire thing, hoof and all. Great. Maisy, don't you know that you are supposed to GNAW on the bone, for months and months and months??? One of these days, I'll learn. Her jaw is so strong from carrying all those huge rocks, and she's predisposed to just WOLF her food down (she never chews, she inhales) . . . sigh.
Anyway, she was bound up the next day, and I was envisioning her insides being pierced by shards of bone. That night, juuuuuust as I was settling my wearing body into bed, I heard her vomit. After cleaning it up and letting her outside (and back in) and then sinking back into bed, I heard her again. This time, it was just hoof and bone. That's good, I thought, maybe she's gotten the "blockage" out. Then, last night and once we were home, she POOPED, and it looked completely normal! Yayyyy! And, lesson learned.
Okay, now I'm really off. I feel like I need to dip my face in a bowl of ice water to get going today. 24 more hours, just 24 more hours . . . .