I can tell you two things with almost complete certainty:
1) You will not get pictures of what I’ll be blogging about today, at least not in the next 12 hours, because my hubby is sound asleep and the camera is in the bedroom and I don’t want to wake him.
2) Tomorrow, on Written Word Wednesday, there will not be an excerpt from “Out of Place”, my NaNoWriMo novel. That’s because I will be running around tomorrow like a chicken with my head cut off. Or turkey, as it were.
You see, tomorrow is the very first time I’ll be hosting a Thanksgiving dinner. Family (oh, who am I kidding? It was the parents’ idea) on both sides agreed that once we own our home, all big holiday get-togethers shall take place at our house and hosted by us truly. So, being the ultimate hostess/big worrywart/slightly OCD (yet still cute enough to not come across as neurotic) person that I am, I will be spending the next few days making sure everything is as perfect as I can make it, including intentionally-placed appearances of “lived-innedness” (that’s actually a post for another day!).
So the post title has one part to do with the fact that I am indeed feeling drained. It’s almost 2 in the morning in my part of the world, and you better believe that a good cup of coffee got me there! But I’m actually loving it at the same time. I’m really excited to pull out all the stops and show off and get some time with my dysfunctional yet oh-so-lovable families. (And really, what family isn’t dysfunctional?)
I am also feeling drained from this last weekend. And like my muscles have been stretched by a taffy-puller. Why is that, you ask? It’s because I spent those two days, in addition to the two days of the weekend before that, making a French drain. That’s right; we decided to undertake the project so we ended up spending $300-$400ish dollars as opposed to the $3000-$4000 we would’ve paid to have someone else do it. Lemme tell ya, too, that the $3-4 grand is totally justified to pay those people who would’ve done it. Because man, is it hard work!
For those who don’t know what a French drain is, in its simplest form (read: the best way that Violet can explain it without sounding stupid trying to describe it technically) is a HUGE trench (ours is approximately 100 feet long, 3 feet deep, and 2 feet wide…yep, that’s what she said) with gravel, a pipe drain, more gravel, all wrapped up in polyester then dirt and beauty bark thrown back on in order to keep the house from getting water under the foundation.
That means that we dug that huge trench, transferred the REALLY HEAVY gravel one bucket at a time, and bent down to wrap up that pipe all by ourselves (with help from the a few friends and family, but one day it was all just us two).
I hurt. A lot. Thus the lack of any coherent thought in this post. 😉
So while digging a French drain isn’t on any grand checklist that I’ve listed, I’m giving myself a huge checkmark anyway, because that is a pretty huge accomplishment!
Also, I’m currently reducing apple cider for a glaze and just pulled some excellent-looking persimmon pudding out of the oven. So there’s a whole lotta ta-da-ing going on in my head right now. Imagine a raucous party raising the roof all at the same time.
Of course I’m too lazy to go upstairs to my desktop and find my checkmark picture to include on the blog, as well as my signature. So this is going to look pretty boring. I’m okay with that if you are! 🙂
And with that, good night and sweet dreams, dear readers!
To Worthwhile Hard Work,