but I'm tired!

 You don't realize the treasure that youth is until you get old.  The energy!  The stamina!  I mean, I can remember going on long walks and my feet not even hurting!  I remember getting up out of a chair without thinking, oh dang, I have to get up out of this chair.  And don't get me started on getting down on the floor to play with the grandkids.  Set up the train track?  um, maybe later?  

I have been extra busy.  I went to the water aerobics class this morning, and Sam decided to take little Ruthie and go visit Kathryn and Achilles and Rhys.  After class, it was the once-a-month go out-to-brekky for the aerobics class.  I wasn't going to go, because because because, but you know what?  I did!  I went!  It was pretty much ten miles outside of my comfort zone.  I drove to the diner alone, got out, and walked in alone.  I ended up sitting at the head of the table, with Charlie, who used to drive the school bus that my brother's kids rode.  He knew the farmer who used to live across the way from us, and he was very pleasant company.  He told me in the very first class I attended, "My wife is not a social person, and I IS!" (He's been married for 50 years, and was almost 30 when he married, so he's no spring chicken.)

Anyway, it was quite fun.  There's something to be said about being outside of that comfort zone.  Brekky, for me, was two eggs scrambled, and bacon, and coffee.  It came with toast, but I didn't eat it, which feels wasteful, but better wasteful than waist-full!  Yup, I'm old.

I picked Miss Char up from school, we went and painted for a bit at the house Sam is moving in to.  Two and a half hours of painting, then to the grocery store, then home....ah home.  The kids had eaten, and scattered off here and there so I made scrambled eggs with sausage, bacon, green peppers, and onions for Paul and I...also Ezekial raisin toast, which I burnt.

Okay, here's a funny story.  Paul and our son-in-law Adrian were with me at the house we are fixing up for Sam yesterday, and they wondered if the oven there in the house worked.  They turned it on, and left the room to work on the stairway railing, asked me to check it soon to see if it was heating up.  Well,  I was painting the cabinets in there, then I wondered:  did they check to see if there was anything in the oven?  of course they didn't!  Guess what was in there?  A frying pan.  Frying pan handles aren't oven safe!  I couldn't open the oven door all the way because it was pulled away from the wall and bumping almost into the refrigerator, so I grabbed a pair of plaid pajama pants that we've been using for a paint rag, and grabbed the pan out of the oven, but:  it was full of OIL.  Rancid yucky-blucky oil!  Stinky rotten old oil!  And you guessed it, I didn't know the pan was full of oil, so it spilled all over the oven.  I was glad I didn't get it on me, but still, dang.  Another mess to clean up.

I told Char about it today when we were painting,  I said, "Who doesn't check an oven when you turn it on?"  (and never even mind about who on earth would store a pan of oil in their oven, move out of the house and leave it there.)

Well I felt smug about their stupidity, then I did a boo-boo.  I gave Char the wrong paint...primer!  dang.  I had painted one coat of nice white trim paint on the kitchen window trim, the day before, then gave Char primer to do a second coat, oopsie!  That now has to be repainted with trim paint, she spent a LONG time on it.  Oh, I hate wasting time (and primer, ha).  

Sam is leaving tomorrow to go pack up the moving van and move back up, so I'll have 10 month old Ruth for the entire time, so I won't be painting...or swimming, for a bit.  

Anyway, I'm a bit old, and a bit tired.  It's been a DAY.