Work Wednesday—NOT at the Farm


Well, while all this remodeling has just been a barrel of laughs, a super fun activity and all that, this week’s post is brought to you by Paperwork.

Sigh.

It’s not bad enough that January 1st brings the beginning of the month, which means a few hours doing royalty statements for RHP, but it also brings the beginning of the year or rather, in my case, the END of the year.

And that means accounting, personal and business, and taxes, and this year the FAFSA, and a health insurance issue—see last week—and de-decorating the house from Christmas.

Sigh.

So my husband is down at the farm, batching it and eating crap, but most importantly, he’s tiling the office and bedroom and finishing the last bedroom wall.

And that’s a big HALLELUJAH, but it also means that very soon I can start dragging some furniture down there so I can move down the boxes I’ve packed that are starting to fill up the garage again.

And the living room.

Yes, got a bit ahead of myself.

But really, I saw no point in putting non-holiday stuff back up on the mantel, etc., when I’d just have to take it down again. Besides, it’s almost time to put the house on the market and we’ve got a few minor repairs and things to do here.

Much easier without the clutter.

So, no pics, no exciting stories of my sorta/kinda ineptitude with paint and so forth, but just know that I’m thinking about all that endless tile while I sit here, buried in paperwork . . .

 

Work Wednesday—We Did Nothing!


Nope, sorry, move along. Nothing to report this week—it was a holiday weekend after all, and so we took a break, finally.

However, my husband tried to work on the ceiling and he did do a little paint-scraping, thanks to my sloppiness. But we did have friends over for a barbeque on Sunday and he got in a little fishing while I practiced my paddling skills.

Not very well, I’m afraid. Ran into a few trees along on the shoreline. Nothing like taking a shower and finding tiny sticks in your hair, but not quite realizing, for a split second, that they’re ONLY sticks!

And, on Sunday evening, we went to the local rodeo:

IMG_5969[1] IMG_5976[1]IMG_5978[1]                IMG_5979[1] 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It. Was. Awesome.

But I’m tellin’ ya, rodeo sure has changed. Back in the day, no self-respecting cowgirl would have put glitter on her horse’s butt, and certainly no cowboy would be seen posting in his saddle while riding a horse with a partially braided tail. Or a fully braided tail.

Good grief.

In other news, I’m wondering if I’m too old to go back to barrel racing . . .