It felt like . . . I needed to put on long pants this morning for my walk. It was brisk. I still got a fairly good sweat on by the time I got home. The cooling off period put me in the car and I headed up town. I felt I needed some library books for the times that I had not known enough to stop moving and running steps up and down, down and up. Our bank has decided that lobby hours are no longer needed on Saturdays. It has been a long time since I have used the drive-up facility.
Supper is in the oven and our cistern closet is done . . . kaput, finished. I put my Epileptic boxes on my Fleet and Farm wagon ready to pull it to the curb bright and early on Wednesday, and I haven’t even tackled the remaining basement areas. I’ll need to round up several more boxes. There is plenty of notice via signs on the boxes that contain glass. This morning I wondered how many other people feel the need to shove things up above the floor joists in their basements. Yuk! Head down, pull it down and deal with it and some dust. Actually Dennis has to decide how to deal as it was items that he had tucked up there.
Once I have the last bite of supper . . . I am off the clock. Tomorrow is another day. Each evening I tell myself I am that much closer to digging out my beloved sewing machine. I am sure it is having separation anxiety.