“Remoted” – Day 420 (Monday)

Today was the perfect day to shake up the inertia. Work-work got done and there was a test run of the “share screen” feature in our conferencing software for my final presentation in the public speaking class at work next Tuesday. This was a relief.

After work, a couple home-work things got done, partly prompted by a planned visit from Mom and StepDad this coming weekend. Things have really been allowed to slide around here, and I need to get it together so Mom doesn’t see that I am really a slob. It's hard to cling to the illusion that I might have my crap together when it’s laid out on every horizontal surface of the house.

In addition to the general rule that the best way to get the house cleaned is to have people over, the sunshine and nice air temperature helped get things in motion. The weather inspired the planting of half the pansies into the three-tiered planter on the deck. There are still eight more pansies to be planted, which are now in the front porch. Maybe tomorrow they will be set into the earth. At least I’m no longer constantly relocating them from one end of the kitchen counter to the other.

Instruments of torture.

The remainder of the back yard mowing abandoned on Friday then ignored both Saturday and Sunday was tackled. It took a solid hour of hard labor thanks to the thick clumps of faux grass and their ability to halt the push mower/torture device. As a point of pride, only once did I say aloud, “I hate this effing lawn.” Usually, it is much more frequently uttered, as if a mantra, but I heard kids playing a couple yards over and made every effort to stifle my bitching. The suppression of swearing was at least as great a triumph as the completion of the mowing and the workout. 

While I labored, Winston lounged in the sun on the deck, and Moose wandered the yard, following the random paths of mowed grass, which briefly resembled a labrynth. The way the dense greenery winds through the yard made straight and even rows difficult to impossible, and the mower was pushed in any direction it could pass though. To any neighbors observing, it certainly must have looked like a drunk did the mowing. Out of curiosity, I clipped on the pedometer, and it was 800 steps to mow half the back yard with the push mower. The next mow should be easier, because clumps of the yard will not be six to eight inches tall. I hope.

After the mowing and several glasses of ice water, I happened to catch the beginning of a live tarot reading on Facebook that I had no idea was happening. It felt like a sign. In the space of thirty minutes, the intuitive reader did readings for questions submitted by four viewers. There was a question about career, a mother-in-law, and two about romance/relationships. One of the questions was mine and the outlook seems very favorable.