I’m alway cleaning. Right now I’m It’s-Almost-Spring cleaning, the woodstove creates a lot of dust, so the majority of it is dusting, cleaning out drawers and fighting off the mice that are attempting to make the outhouse their own. Thankfully, Yarrow is much better about being deposited on a blanket while I run around the house. She crawls around after things she shouldn’t have and practices her words: “Luba,” “dada,” “hi” and “Jesus” - though the “J” is more of a mumbled “d” right now, and is reserved for the Infant of Prague in the outhouse, who she loves.
Besides cleaning, and the as yet unsuccessfully pursuit of a way to convince Yarrow that sleep is in fact not over-rated, what do I fill the days with? Writing, a bit, resenting the new snow-fall generally making life good.
If you haven’t heard Florence and The Machine yet, you should. She reminds me of Kate Bush, but generally better, I think.