It’s a muddle…

I’m glad to be looking at the hind end of June. I don’t mind saying. Not that anything traumatic, dramatic, or even problematic happened. Okay. Maybe problematic, but not in the grand scheme of things.

It was just a bunch of little June things that has me, at this very moment of writing this post, slurping a Second Cup frozen hot chocolate, which is like eating a sludgy fudgesicle — soooo good. Soon to be followed by scarfing a bag of Miss Vickie’s Lime & Black Pepper potato chips. That’s how we’re rolling today.

I can probably stop calling Mr. G honey Pneumonia Boy now. Except at night. Cough. Cough. Cough. I’m so over my viral cough, and the food poisoning is in repose. Gracie Allen Golden Pup is recovering nicely from her muscle strain/soft tissue damage that had her leaving the off leash park on Friday on three legs instead of four. The fourth was being held out to the left. We lovingly referred to her all weekend as Her Gimpness, which was probably rude. Did I mention lovingly? She has been banished from the off leash experience until further notice. So sayeth the vet.

After the Friday morning sprint to the vet, it was time to roll up our sleeves and help Super Techlet and her man (I haven’t figured out his moniker yet. It will come to me.) unpack at their new home. Now, I’m feeling a little older than I did last week. My kidlet, the Super Techlet, just bought her first home. Definitely going to need those Miss Vickie’s.

We unpacked, DMV’d — dusted, mopped, vacuumed — and put IKEA furniture together, and generally high-fived for three days, which we plan on repeating over the Canada Day/4th of July long weekend. Good times.

The Landscape Boys will be back tomorrow or Thursday to begin Phase 3. This involves topsoil, organic mulch, pea gravel, flagstone, fieldstone and river rock scattered across the butt-ugly brown subsoil that is our front lawn. Pictures to follow, unless I want to move to Fiji when they’re finished creating my vision. What if I hate my vision? Eep. This isn’t a big project. Mostly it’s been a rained-out project.

While I’m living the life here on my little, denuded piece of Canadaland, many of my fellow writers are off to The Big Apple for the Romance Writers of America 31st Annual Conference, along with a bunch of publishers, agents, editors and sundry. Lucky writers. Lucky sundry. Twitter hashtag ~ #rwa11

That pretty much brings you up-to-date. Yep. It’s definitely a muddle. A good muddle, but a muddle.

Pass the Miss Vickie’s.