Back At The Home Desk

Woke up wide awake at 2 AM because that is 10 AM in England, and my brain is still there.

After one hour of failing totally to get back to sleep, I started my day at 3 AM. Which means I’ve already accomplished a great deal. Travel laundry is almost finished. Out of four white shirts I packed, four came home with coffee stains on them. I’m trying to decide if I give up coffee or white shirts.

Bills are almost paid. Just a few more of those to go.
Junk mail is out to the recycling bin.
Anything that was in the refrigerator when I left has been firmly escorted out of the house.
The source of the fruit fly swarm in the kitchen has been discovered and removed.

Lawns watered. Did not have any plants that were dead all the way this time, though a few came close. A couple of days of regular watering and they should perk up.

In my absence, one white and black chicken hatched 12 black chicks.
The Little Black Hen, also thought to have perished to the coyotes, returned yesterday with nine chicks of all sorts of colors, making me wonder if the two hens traded nests. Often chickens will make communal nests. I fiercely hunt down and gather eggs when I am home, but these two hens, with the help of their sister hens, laid and hatched 21 chicks while I was gone.

And late last night, I got a call from MC who minds our farm when we are not there. She was calling to let us know that the Poor Limpy Duck sneaked off and did not give up the ghost as we thought. Oh, no. Last night there was at least one duckling beeping (no, they don’t peep, they beep) from under her wing in a hidden nest just on the wrong side of our fence. And more likely to emerge today. We shall see.

I really don’t want to think what I’d come home to if I had been gone for say, two months.

I’ve a bit of work ahead of me, as all the Italian prunes are coming ripe now, and the apple trees are heavy with apples to ripen at various times over the next month and a half or so. Pumpkins did well, too.

And being a guest of honor at Loncon3, doing an event with George RR Martin, signing hundreds of books, doing interviews and attending dinners . . . Those all seem like something that happened to me in Oz or down the rabbit hole. Even as I’m finding places for Pearly Pigeons and jigsaw puzzles, savoring new notebooks and apricot brandy, tucking a crocheted dragon into place next to a bunny and a . . . well, we never did decide what the Gonzo like creature was . . ., yes, even as I’m putting away my gifts and souvenirs, it all seems a bit unreal to me.

Laundry and new babies of all sorts, plums to process and gardens to weed are the stuff of my every day life. And yes, there is a book to finish, but for today, I am just readjusting to Tacoma time and farm riches.

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