It's been a day for acting like a grown-up. I went to church this morning for Lazarus Saturday and, as I said to Chris, I know I'm in for it when Adrian is that happy to see me. Brian wasn't there, so I chanted. I did it for so many years that I didn't even have to hunt up the music for today's Troparion. The words and music were right there in my mind. But I did almost every liturgy for nine years, so I suppose it isn't surprising.
I came home and tackled the sink. I know that I plumbed that sink and installed the disposal, but clogs were always your area. Since you hadn't gotten here to work on it for almost a week, I thought I'd better go ahead. I dismembered the pipes and found the problem - mostly black beans and potato eyes - and all is well. No mess, no fuss, no problems. The disposal is still a bit jammed but it's better than it was. I'll keep at it.
While I was on a roll, I vacuumed and gave the kitchen its spring cleaning. Then, in the vein of being an adult, I got the taxes filed on-line. We owed the state $300 and will get back over half that from the fed, so not too bad. Everybody in Indiana always owes state. I got the records filed and labeled and put away for next year. So that is done.
And now I can enjoy myself. It's 78 at 6:30, sunny, very windy. I'm in the glider on the front porch right now. I'm wearing my oldest jeans, one of your sweatshirts, and a red bandana that I've had since college. Jethro is in the back yard and the cats are enjoying their period of solitude. I brushed the dog this afternoon, and only got a small dog in return. Oh, change that about the cats. Hunter is in the nearest window meowing at me. They're always cuddly after I vacuum. I suppose you have to love a human that can tame the loud, vicious beast of a vacuum cleaner.
So, basically, I pretended to be you all day. I vacuumed, unclogged the sink, and filed the taxes. Those were always your jobs. You may come and thank me tonight. Next time, get here in time to do some of the work!