Well, it's Monday morning and once again my housekeeper did not show up. Right, that's because I don't have a housekeeper. Damn. I guess the place will just have to remain disgusting for a few more days until I summon up the mojo to dig my way through the crap and find the floors. Whatever.
This morning as I soldiered outside through the cold to feed the chickens and my nose hair glossed over with ice, I thought dreamy January thoughts of tropical weather and escaping the doldrums of New England winter. Let's face it, I think about this every minute of every day until I see the first signs of spring. I can't envision a winter where I don't dream about escape. That just wouldn't be me.
Even the pets are suffering this winter. Our older cat, MiniMe, has completely given up going outside, and has taken to using the kitten's litter box instead. Disgusting. I am becoming somewhat resentful, but I try to be empathetic and rationalize the fact that I would not like to crap outside in the cold any more than she does. But still, first thaw and that box is history. Polly, our loyal canine, is rapidly widening around the haunches and looking at me with pleading eyes to take her on a walk. I feel like a bad dog mama but really, when it's 2 degrees outside that is probably not going to happen. Maybe later today when it warms up to a balmy 25.
Francisco and I are in desperate need of a wood stove. Becoming homeowners has opened our eyes to the shocking revelation that oil is expensive and winter is freaking cold! First item on the tax return agenda: install cozy stove to warm our feet and snuggle by at night. Not sure how doable this is on a budget, but it must happen.
Until then I will keep burning the oil and shedding a tear each time my checkbook groans from the bill. I keep it low, bundle up in sweaters, and try to remember that winter doesn't last forever. Ugh.