Scott was gone to Calgary to help son Gunnar build a deck onto his house. The dog, Tank, chose the only two boards pushed together as a place to snooze in the sun.
I am working son Everett for six hours every weekday, with jobs around the house and yard.
"You are a horrible boss," he says, because I tell him what needs to be done shortly before it's time to do it. He would prefer a list made up in advance, and perhaps no choices.
So this morning I sat down and filled out this week's calendar for him. He'll be weeding, washing cupboards, washing walls, cleaning the bathroom, bathing Ducky, bagging up the recycling, cleaning the freezer, CLRing my glass pitchers, and accompanying me on after-the-dew's-gone morning walks to find and pick medicinal wildflowers around the field across the road.
I love it. So many of these little jobs are always hanging over my head, "shoulds," that I don't get around to as often as I'd like. It's wonderful to have a personal assistant. We all need one.
