What is it about a Monday morning that sends tremors through me? Could it be the things on the docket this week that make everything seem out of control even before the week gets started? (I mentioned to The Husband the other day that I thought this time of life was supposed to be slower, less hectic, less scheduled...apparently I was mistaken.) Of course, the annual (once every decade or so) physical on Wednesday might have something to do with my elevated blood pressure. Or the something going on for three nights in a row this week. I think I'll check out airfares - to anywhere.
We've been in our house for 11 years now. And I'm so excited for what that means. It means:
The gas stove-top is on tap to be repaired this morning (if the repairman arrives, we'll see on that one.)
The microwave door is misbehaving. (We'll deal with it.)
The shower grout needs replacing.
The concrete patio is scheduled to be replaced (it was on the schedule for 3 weeks out 2 weeks ago, so most likely within the month.)
The evergreens along the perimeter of the yard have aphids. Need attention. Costly attention. (Along with the tri-color beeches, and the maples that have a virus we're monitoring, and the lilac tree that's succumbed to the wind and must be removed.)
So thrilled to have so much to keep us from being bored. Was concerned about that prospect.
Favorite memory of the weekend: When The Husband pretended his jaw was hurting to get my sympathy, was aware he'd been caught dissembling and had that rare-nearly-uncontrollable-totally-engulfing-laughter-fit. So contagious. So fun. So memorable.
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