From the back porch - August 28, 2017

Boy, sometimes, things sure don't turn out as we expected, eh?

This week, the boss lady was supposed to be on vacation, and since I try to take my vacation at the same time she takes hers, I was supposed to be on vacation, too.

All sorts of things cropped up.  First, The Husband scheduled a work-related seminar for the same week.  I knew about this months ago and had made other plans for my week off - or, rather, I'd come up with some ideas for things I might want to do this week.  I thought about going to Alabama to do some genealogy research.  I thought about staying home and working on improving the soil in the vegetable garden, or maybe sewing, or painting, or practicing the mandolin, or whatever my little heart might desire.

Then the boss lady's grandbaby got sick, then a hurricane came.  Her grandbaby is much better, thank you, but doesn't need to be back in nursery school just yet, and a babysitter is needed.  And it'll be raining all week at the beach where she was going.  Her trip is off, and so is my vacation.

But it's okay; I hadn't decided what to do, anyway, and I've scheduled another week off in October.  I can just take some "to-go" projects to work with me this week.  Last week, I found a big skein of pretty yarn, so today I started a shawl with it, the most ambitious knitting project I've ever attempted.  When I hunted up my traveling knitting bag this morning, I found a half-completed shawl in it, already.  Ooops.

It didn't take long to open the mail and return phone calls, so while the boss caught up on her reading, I knitted and watched mandolin videos.  About 2 p.m. today, she said, "Let's go home."  I seconded the motion, and now here I sit, listening to the wind picking up, waiting on the rain, and can't think of a blasted thing I really want to do.

The Husband left today to go to his seminar.  He was supposed to have a stop in Houston, but the hurricane changed that.  The airline re-routed him through Chicago; he won't get where he's going until 10 p.m., which will be midnight our time.  He'll be pooped.

I am glad I did not go with him on this trip.  ;)