Yesterday and today were cleaning up and organizing days, cleaning out cat and dog hair from behind and under furniture. Sorting out my paper and deciding which to use for my next pastel, which is taking shape in my mind. Getting one of the rooms upstairs ready to become my framing room. This meant moving the cats out and moving their "paraphernalia" to the utility room downstairs. The cats aren't banished for good: just until I get things set up and the mats stored so cat feet can't walk on them. After all, that room has the best sunning windows in the house. It would be cruelty to deny them access!
Between episodes with broom, vacuum, and mop, I took breaks pulling up the latest crop of weeds in the sadly neglected vegie garden. I may have a crop of lettuce and beets and basil after all.
And piled into bed without having done my little painting. I picked up my notebook and did a quick and calming ink outline of some of the objects on my bedside table, from the peculiar angle afforded by drawing with my head on my pillow and my notebook on my knees. My position, not the angle, accounts for the wonky clock dial. This morning I did the painting, in a morning frame of mind.
Tonight I am simply going to bed.