A day off!

Just Nissa today!

Hey now. You count your days off your way, I’ll count’em mine. Caring for a single 17-month-old is a day off in my world.

Particularly since she’s still recovering from two weeks away. She arrived and within minutes was whinging. Sunny Nissa does not whinge. So, within 15 minutes of arrival, she was down for a morning nap.

It’s almost ten in the morning, and, apart from 20 minutes with Nissa, I have…

– had a cup of tea and perused my email.
– swept and damp-mopped the downstairs
– chatted with husband and daughter as we all trundled around in the kitchen
– made a batch of banana walnut muffins
– sorted two kitchen drawers
– made a pot of vegetable soup stock
– had another cup of tea and read a couple of chapters in my current book

Aaaaahhhh…

Plans for the day:
Take in the beeeeyoutiful day out there with a walk to the bank, with a couple of side trips into a kitchen supply store (towels) and the flower shop,for fresh flowers. Nice, huh?

I like to have fresh flowers in a vase in my front hall. So pretty and welcoming. Cut flowers only. I do not like potted plants. I only kill them. Withered, yellow and/or blackened plants, gasping out their life in my front hall is neither pretty nor welcoming — and the GUILT? If you hate me, buy me a potted plant, knowing that I will agonize as it dies of my loving care, knowing that I will not just be able to toss the damned thing, but that my guilt-ridden agonizing will go on for as long as it takes to die deader than dead. I am a hapless plant-murderer, and oh, the responsibility of that curse! So. Cut flowers, please. I like my decorative foliage pre-dead, thanks.

Domestic diva-ness, a stroll in the mellow autumn sunshine, a few errands, pretty flowers, and probably a half-hour in a coffee shop, followed by some more reading-and-tea time when the tot has her afternoon nap.

Sounds like a day off to me!