Chores

Had to go to town to call the phone company, they said I should be restored by the end of the day today. While I was at the museum I did a little touch-up painting. Charlotte came in to clean the fridge. Preparation for the fund-raiser. Next Saturday is going to be a long day and I might not get home. Then the evening talk on the following Friday, which will give me a couple of weekends to clean house, muck out the outhouse, and get the cookstove going. In addition to cleaning the stovepipe, I need to clean the smoke chase (which is what heats the oven) and clean the cooking surface. I need to clean around and under the stove too, because I tend to stash things there: cast irons pots and pans that need re-conditioning; interesting burls of wood; miscellaneous unidentified objects that need to be cleaned to be identified. The first step of which is almost always that you dry it out. I have a bat skeleton I'm trying to preserve, the bones are so delicate, that I have to impregnate each one with a hardening compound before I dare to touch it. My older daughter calls, and we talk about logistics, what we'll be eating, everything subject to the weather. I should be able to get a motel room for them and take a shower there, before they get in the Monday before Thanksgiving. They have to leave that Friday, early, to get back to Denver for a show that night, so I might be able to get a second shower that morning, when I turn in their keys. It's all about hot running water. And seeing my girls, of course. I have to get my act together, I feel dislocated in space, I often drift, without a tether.