Kids. Damn their hides. My youngest is 18 and has a mind like a steel trap. A steel trap with a sieve built in. Yesterday I said “I’m working two more hours and then we’ll go to town. Load up the laundry and the two duvets and the recycling so we’re ready to leave when I’m done.”
We get to town, and he has forgotten the laundry soap and the duvets and the recycling. Which means we had to buy soap (I made him buy it; he doesn’t like to spend his money, so maybe something will register) and we’re going back to town today to run the duvets through the washers and dryers. And I left the grocery-getting to today, too, picking up just milk and buttermilk before we came home last night.
I’m not sure what time we’ll get away, Pet, and Beau seems to have buggered off with my cellphone to godknowswhere, so when you’re ready to leave the city, if I’m not here when you call, give a message to the answering machine telling me what time it is. So I’ll know when to send out a search party if you go missing, trying to find your way to the farm. (Isn’t it awful about that gal whose car was found in a slough? and there’s still no sign of her, but her family says she told them someone had been stalking her. F’ing sick people out there.)
I know you’re still asleep or I’d phone you right now. As it is I’m going to pour myself a fresh cup of hot coffee and go stroll around the yard. It’s cold out there this morning, but maybe I can find a sunny spot out of the wind.