I was channeling my inner Shel Silverstein: oh, I’m looking for my missing fleece…
And my inner Laura Numeroff.
The rest of Edgar’s curly locks had gone missing, and I have someone I want to share him with.
So then a closet suspected of holding them hostage got gleaned of Goodwill-ables.
So then discoveries were made of, wow, that really fits me post-op! Or, wow, that really really doesn’t wear well now with–should I–never mind. Out!
And if a closet gets gleaned of Goodwill-ables, it starts other cleaning in motion.
And if cleaning is in motion, it spreads to other rooms.
And if it spreads to other rooms, you need some hot cocoa. (Trust me on this one.)
And if you have hot cocoa, you have the perfect set-up for knitting with your feet propped up because you could use the rest. But the best knitting requires spinning up some fleece on that wheel. And Edgar would be perfect, if you could find….
And one last thing–if you have a swept patio and you put a big plastic pot outside there to transplant your tomato plant into and pour in the last of one potting soil bag but decide lifting the other one in its entirety must wait for another day, the squirrels will attack it en masse, grabbing and pulling from opposing sides on their tippy-toes and will knock it over repeatedly trying to climb into it and will roll dirt all over the patio because they know, they just know!, that there has to be good stuff in there just waiting to be raided and you you and YOU get out of here this is MY plunder!
Fer cryin’ out loud, give it a little time, willya?