Things Are Not Quiet, Except On My Blog

We had the house painted last week. It looks pretty good, I think, though hiring a contractor for anything always gives me that same warm feeling as buying a used car. I know if I look too hard under the hood I'm going to find something and does that mean I got ripped off, or does it just mean that perfection is hard to achieve in this life?

Meanwhile, BigSister started pre-school (two days a week, 2 1/2 hours a day) with no major trauma, other than LittleSister crying when BigSister left. Unfortunately, BigSister woke up with a very snuffly nose this morning, so I don't know if we'll be experiencing pre-school this week.

I'm also trying to get things lined up for the really big household project: new hardwood floors. I've talked to a mover to move our stuff into our garage, I have the dates (in October), and my main challenge is figuring out what to do with the cat. She's diabetic, and she hates other cats. So generally when we go out-of-town we get a pet sitter. That doesn't work so well when the house is filled with noxious chemicals. I think I may have a solution, but am hammering on the details.

There's more. There's a cyst on LittleSister's neck, we've been referred to an ENT. I changed vets for many reasons but most of all because the vet tech did not know the difference between CCs and Units and I didn't want my cat overdosed. I am scheduling houseguests. I am scheduling travel during the floor debacle. I am doing everything except writing.

I am reading, though. I finished "The Forsyte Saga," which was excellent, though tremendously long. How did I miss this book? It won the Nobel Prize, but I'd never heard of it except as a BBC adaptation. It is very much of its time, but has wonderful characters who are complex and interesting. Now I'm reading Anne Lamott's "Traveling Mercies," which is good because I could use some faith. Why can't I find a church like hers around here?