Being the (mostly) dutiful wiff I am, I climbed out of bed at 6:45am to make coffee and join the hub in the shower. Usually I make breakfast, too, but beg off that duty when I don't have to go to work. So I climbed back into bed to have a wee sleep-in, only to be roused by hub's hubbub in the kitchen. In my bleary half-awake state I had neglected to put the pot in position in the coffee machine -- very bad idea. Fortunately for me, the machine is at least one tick brighter than I am, and turned itself off. So I amended the sitch, decided I really needed to go back to bed and start the day over in a half hour or so.
The cats, lovely though they are, are engaged in some kind of ongoing sport tourney which sounds like a rugby match as they fly through the rooms, and one of the goals (which have varying locations throughout the house) was apparently next to my head on the pillow this morning. So I gave up and got dressed. The rest of my morning, and probably some of the afternoon, will be spent in my old music studio at the Vulcan warehouse helping my ex-bandmate, who now lives in France, sort through the belongings she has in storage there, connected to her on Skype (she's in Toulouse). We'll have to see if it works or not, but I'm hopeful. Then on to editing the WFC report, and choosing photos for the spread.
It's pouring down rain. Depressing. I haven't blogged about our epic landscaping project in the backyard, but will when it's closer to done. Suffice to say, we dug a big square hole about 15 x 20 feet (and 2 ft. deep), which is now filling with rainwater and making a large mudbox right outside our kitchen door. And we have two 50-some pound dogs that are left out when no one is home (or else Sasha, the catahoula, gets in to trouble - books are a favorite chewtoy, among other things). DIY is slow and cumbersome sometimes, so despite our best efforts, we did not beat the rainy season.