Good morning, my lovelies. Happy Tuesday. Happy birthday, if that’s your thing. Happy UN-birthday, if that’s your thing. The weather forecast for the next few days calls for more sunshine.
We made good time yesterday. We arrived back at Mom‘s house after about six hours, and no bathroom stops. I gave the kitties their loves and ran to the bathroom as soon as we were out of the truck. Then I proceeded to take shit out of the truck. In order to fit the treasure chest in, I had to rearrange things somewhat. I removed two boxes to mail up to Shawshank at some point. Thinking more, I believe there’s a plastic tote that I could probably empty out entirely. It weighs a fucking ton, and I’m assuming it’s filled with more books I wanted to turn into wreaths.
Speaking of wreaths, they’re gone. The last five I made are heading to the shops. I bought a music book at a thrift store. However, I haven’t decided if I’ll make something with it now. It would be much easier to save it for a project Up North, than to travel with whatever I turn it into.
The mini-vacation itself was nice. I haven’t seen my cousin in probably 10 years, and it had been about a year since I’d seen my aunt and uncle. There was a total of nine cats and kittens in the house, and two chickens outside. On Saturday, we went on a boat ride that would have made the last voyage of the SS MINNOW look like a pleasure cruise. On Sunday, we went to a flea market and a thrift store.
Brian’s parents invited us over for dinner last night. We rested at home for an hour, before we headed back out to the Confederate Compound for some smoked meat. His dad and uncle were watching old episodes of “Hammer” and “Starsky and Hutch“. They lamented over the fact that years 40 years ago, you barely saw one black person on a TV show, but “these days you’re lucky if you see one white person”. His mom said she wants to buy some materials to repair the trim around a window at Mom’s house. “It looks like you’re living in a n***** shack”, she said.
Hence the name.
Today’s plans are pretty much nothing, as far as I know. The washer is running. Chaucer and Knickknack are staring at each other. I’m in workout clothes, and I plan to get my sweat on this morning. I mostly want to forget about the fact that this is the second year I’ve been apart from Shawshank on his birthday.
