(Socks I'm making for six-year-old Grace. The yarn is Panda Silk--52% bamboo, 43% superwash merino; 5% silk. It feels divine.)
I spent the weekend painting the upstairs hallway Salmonberry. Where do they get these names? Salmonberry is essentially a yellowy peach. The walls were formerly Dishwater Gray, so Salmonberry is a huge improvement, believe me.
I am not a natural born painter. In fact, I don't much like painting, but I love the results, so I paint. In the process I drive my husband nuts. My husband is a neat, efficient painter who takes approximately three years to prep a room for painting, making a slow job of it indeed. I'm very good about taping woodwork and putting down plastic, but I don't go in for fancy stuff. And when I'm done painting the brushes are grubby with paint, and my husband is aghast. We have decided to invest in our own personal paint brushes, and he will keep his under lock and key from now on. Apparently, I muck up a brush.
So why didn't DH step in and take over, like every cell in his body was begging him to do? Because he was sick--and you know he must be really sick, because it takes an Act of Congress for him to admit he feels the slightest bit unwell. Will is also sick, and Jack was trying as hard as he could to be sick. It's The Fever. Friday night, Will's fever spiked to 104. I took him to Urgent Care, but it wasn't Strep and it wasn't the Flu, it's just the Bug That Is Going Around.
Will revived enough on Saturday to join Jack in a money-making scheme. My husband, who is a genius, said they could do chores for extra spending money--if they worked together. So together they did the laundry--three loads!--and folded it (not like you or I would fold it, but who am I to judge?), cleaned their rooms, cleaned my study, and swept and straightened the back porch.
I don't think they realize what a huge mistake it was to take on the laundry and do a competent job. I may never do laundry again. I can't tell you what an amazing thing it was to start the day out with three baskets filled with dirty clothes and to end the day with clean clothes "folded" and put away in the drawers, and not having to lift a finger to make it happen. Wonder of wonders.
So, now it's Monday. The hallway is painted but for the trim. I did some of the trim, but decided I don't like the color. It's a little too close to the Salmonberry, and a creamy white would look better. I'm hoping my husband will take over the trim job. Fingers crossed.
Will is still sick, though cheerful enough. Jack wanted to be sick (he did have a slight fever yesterday--99.9), but his temperature is normal, so I punted him off to school. My husband is probably still sick, but he's now pretending that he feels pretty okay. He doesn't, but it goes against his personal code to stay in bed for more than 48 hours.
I, amazingly, am not sick. I keep waiting and waiting, and it still might hit, but for now I am well. Talk about wonders of wonders!
I'm a writer and a stay-at-home mom who keeps meaning to mop the floors because I think it would make me happy if I did. I love books and music and writing, spend entirely too much time in the dentist's chair (I bet I have more crowns than you do), and used to think I was sort of bohemian, but now I wonder. No tattoos. Minivan. That story.