It's a trick!

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Okay, I washed the one inside window, the both outside windows involved.  Then I hit the window on the screen door, one window to my bedroom (frontside one, couldn't do both due to a screen... for now), and then went to another side window that will be getting sheers.  All fine, really.  I don't mind getting ahead or expanding the operation.  Then I rested just a bit.  Some of those windows are large, lots of reaching, and I am as I am... limited that is.  I then broke the piano table and stool down, taking those upstairs.  As I was finishing that, I took a look at the living room window which will be next, as windows go if not on the job list.  It seems such an easy thing.  Except that I have been using the loveseat in front of it as a storage device.  Boxes of stuff, loose videos and games, this and that.  Oh, it's a trick alright.  I should have remembered.  My mothers used to say things like... "Let's go wash the windows.", or "Let's clean the floors or rugs or such".  The trick was everything you had to do to get to the job.  Oh, they knew.  We didn't until we got there and noticed.  Tricks.

Still, it's what's for dinner?  Something like that.  My job, now that something has kicked over, is to use as much as possible.  Busy every day, as busy as possible.  For now, windows and limbs will do.  After those?  Cleaning floors, putting the bathroom together, changing lightbulbs out, keeping up on weeds and watering, perhaps planting grass, reducing possessions, planning and making dehydrated foods, packing various groupings of items for various types of outings and then going on those outings.  It's going to hurt, it will be a bit much even too much, quite often.  I may never actually get over that, but that is how my life will be from now on.  I can't, honestly, see all that much difference between that and being silenced into nursing care and an allowed or assisted death.  It's just that the medical industrial complex won't get richer off it.

I best feed the girls, then thing about a bite of something for myself.  I am hungry, I just can't seem to...  I have a plan.  Nothing tastes or sounds all that good.  Even so, I've got to eat.  So...  I dunno.  I'll figure it out.  I definitely need calories in order to get to work.  Raking, later, and next, I do believe.  A quarter to half the yard, unless I catch a good wind.  Later.