Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Pitcher Collection

Grandma Benson collected pitchers and these are among several that now grace my china cabinet.

I might as well start showing off some of the family heirlooms that have been passed on to me. Now if only I can figure out how to take a close-up that displays them to advantage.

The sun is shining here today. I wonder if it will last long enough for me to get some clothes on and get out for a walk. We haven't had more than three weeks of summer weather this year, and never more than a couple days of warmth in a row, so now that the forecast is for some fall heat I've got my fingers crossed. The weather man says that October will be dry, which means that just maybe we can leave our wet basements (still have the old house to look after, too) and get out to Kelowna for a visit before snowfall, without worrying about a pump failing in our absence. Maybe. At this point it doesn't look promising; I may have to leave Scottie at home to hold down the fort. Which would be too bad, as he's the one who needs a holiday the most.

He's just phoned home with a request that I make some lunch for him and his cousin Perry, so I'll have to get out of this chair and come up with something. And hope that the sun is still out there by the time I'm through.

There's a young gal coming to do some housecleaning for us this afternoon — yay, I finally found someone who wants to come on a regular basis and knows what she's doing! She's agreed to give me two hours every two weeks, which I pay for without blinking an eye because she does the jobs that I always notice need to be done and never get around to doing -- the bathroom, and washing the floors. I have lived in this house for a year now -- eight months with the kitchen flooring in -- and never mopped the floor, just spot-wiped it. And you don't even want to know what shape the toilet could get into. So I will sit here at my desk while she's scrubbing and I will work for two hours doing a job I like, earning more per hour than I will be paying her to do a job I do not like. Makes sense to me, though most women in my income bracket would never allow themselves this luxury.

To me, it's worth every cent.