I mean my Saturday Morning Chores, not blahgging. There is no right or wrong way to blahg. It’s my blahg and I’ll cry/laugh/curse if I want to. If you don’t wanna read it, hop on over to the Duggar family’s site or somewhere. I guarantee it’ll be more interesting than the blather I post here.

Oh yeah, back to my Saturday Morning Chores. My absolute fave part of the weekend (er, besides walking down to the Oscar Tango on Friday night) is that golden hour or so early Saturday morning when I walk down to the farmer’s market and try not to buy more food than we can eat. This morning I got lettuce, cherry tomatoes, a cucumber, little zucchinis, basil, broccoli, snap peas, and I’m probably fergitting something. Oh, yeah, some morning glories. And coffee from Roos. The GG fancied the idea of cooking a chitchen on the grill tonight, so we picked one up from Sparrow (neither of us were feeling quiiiite “up” to Mr. Chicken’s fun but rather raucous style of conversation this morning). And some lean ground beef for a meatloaf tomorrow. Bonus? While walking down this morning, I arrived at the Drop Acid Not Bombz Bridge just as the Creaky Old Freight Train began crossing it. I know, it doesn’t take much.

Then I got home and turned into a whirling dervish. Saturday is the day I wash the sheets and shower curtains and bathmats, etc., and vacuum/clean floors, so I was flinging laundry into various musheens and giving Rooooomba her marching orders to vac various rooms while I “processed” food (aka wash lettuce, mostly) and did various other chores. My habit is to vacuum the front living room carpet on Saturday morning. Alas, Saturday is inevitably the day the GG works outdoors and tracks dirt in. Add to that a beach urchin in transit re-packing all of her luggage in that room and I ended up running Roooooomba again later. It’s okay. Yard work needs to be done and I love when my beach urchins come by and disrupt my carefully scarily organized life. All of the other Saturday Chores can stay on Saturday but I think I need to move vacuuming the carpet to Monday afternoon or something. (Shoutout to the GG! He de-cluttered and vacuumed the Back Room! Yay! It was getting to be looking more like a Man Cave than I was comfortable with.)

As I hinted by “in transit”, today was an Airport Day leading to a pretty big adventure. Airport Days are always a little nerve-racking and this one was no exception. It featured a last-minute lunch fumble, a horrific jaffic tram on the eastbound I94 18-Wheel Clogway, and some fancy stomach-churning driving to avoid that jaffic tram. At the end of it all, I was looking at my watch phone to see if it was 0-whine-30. Not anywhere near, doggamit (although there was evidence that *someone* indulged in a razz-brrrrr-rita), so I made myself mobilize. I organized some Things To Fling and even did some dusting.

Now? The chitchen is on the grill and the sun is finally getting over the yardarm. Hope your Saturday was good. G’night, KW.

P.S. I wish I had obtained permission to drive the in-transit beach urchin’s vee-hickle to my work one day while she’s gone. It’s probably best that I don’t, but the thought of messing with Louie-Louii’s head is pretty irresistible 💩

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