Mrs. Hillbilly Mom doesn't ask for much during her summer vacation. A little song. A little dance. A little seltzer down her pants. WAIT! That's not what Mrs. HM asks for! That was Chuckles the Clown. All Mrs. HM asks for is some down time to regroup. To relax. To not constantly be serving somebody else's needs. She would like an uneventful day or two each week to use for creative purposes. To recharge her writing batteries.
As you might surmise, that rarely happens.
Yesterday, I thought I might have such a day. I really did. Even though Farmer H woke me at 6:00 as usual to make sure I would not be able to get any rest since he had to work. I was done with chores and about to start releasing those creative juices around 10:00 a.m. And the phone rang. It was my favorite gambling aunt. Since she retired from Newmentia, we have been out of touch. Since Mom died, I don't drive by her house as often. Besides, she had back surgery a few months ago, and is still recuperating. I could not turn down her phone call. After all, I am out of the gossip loop. Also, her son is buying Mom's house. So I took the call. She's a talker.
I hung up at 11:45.
Then there was lunch to make for The Pony. And something for me. A few hours to myself, then time to make supper. A bit of a respite to eat. Then it was time to watch the live Big Brother eviction with The Pony.
This morning, I figured I would get some extra rest, then an early start on my literary pursuits. Perhaps you have heard that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is a night owl. She went to bed at 3:00 a.m., certain she could catch up on those elusive ZZZZZs because Farmer H had a later leave time this morning due to a meeting off the work site. But no. Even though he didn't leave home until 7:30, he made sure to wake her at 6:45 to lecture her to be more cheerful. Which is kind of like poking a snake with a stick and telling it to quit striking.
I sent a text to the #1 son because I needed a replica of his initials for renter's insurance form purposes. While waiting for him to respond so I could drop that form at the office, I started getting texts from the ex-mayor concerning Sis's new phone, which would neither text me nor receive my messages last night. That carried on for a couple of hours while they were at the ATT store. Then I had to rope The Pony into coming upstairs to respond to them, because it was time for my shower.
I left home at 11:30, because I could wait no longer. I needed to pick up some boxes at Save A Lot, and mail a bill, deliver the insurance form, pick up some lottery for #1's letter of hope, and treat myself to a 44 oz Diet Coke. I had to pull off the road 3 times to text #1 about the lack of his initials, then read his response, then do a little creative copying.
The gas station chicken store was out of corn dogs, having just sold the last one to the person in front of me. So when I got home, I would have to warm up some lunch for The Pony. The minute I got inside and stepped across the threshold to the bathroom, the phone rang. It was Farmer H, reporting that he was leaving his meeting, and would be home in an hour-and-a-half. I still had to make my own lunch, which I sat down with at my computer at 2:00. Farmer H rolled in at 3:00. It will be time to start supper at 4:30.
I may need to take a part-time job so I will have time to write after I retire.
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