It's a sad day when you realize your house is more high maintenance than you are. I used to have time to do my nails, color my hair, take bubble baths and other girly things. Those days are gone. Now I'm lucky to get the garden dirt that accumulated under my fingernails out by scrubbing the floors. After six hours of physical labor, also known as housecleaning and gardening on Saturday, I also realized I'm getting old. Old and unmanicured. Nice.
I've been trying to do a little sewing. Ethel, the cat, has been having a grand old time playing chase the string and reorganizing all my quilt pieces. Still I managed to get two quilts layered and basted and one top started.
I'm up to the tung oil coats on the jelly cupboard. I think the tung oil smell combined with the something's-burning-on-the-bottom-of-the-oven smell is what's causing my screaming headache. Or it could be related to the fact that I'm allergic to the earth, sun and the sky this time of year. Either way, my head hurts and I'm going to bed early.