I slept last night, and with rest, some of my brain cells resumed functioning.
It doesn’t matter how hard you work if the list is too long.
Last week, moving on from my state of rage when my builder decreed that exterior water spigots were not part of “plumbing the house” in our contract and he would not install them, I called another plumber. I’ve known Bob for more than thirty years. He’s kind and reliable. In a few hours, Bob snaked new pipe through the basement ceiling. He installed one spigot but the other two required me to first sheetrock the walls. I bought the sheetrock and carried the six big 4’x8′ sheets into the basement, but I haven’t had time to cut them and put them up. Bob planned to return tomorrow.
Yesterday as I wailed over my list, DH said calmly, “Bob’s a reasonable person. Why don’t you call him and see if he can come back next week instead?”
Wow! How logical. Done.
Similarly I have been working on the apartment deck while my tenant is gone. Due to weather damage of the wood, a job I thought would take three hours morphed into one consuming three days. It’s not finished yet. Now it really will only take three hours, but I don’t have those hours. I will put up a board to make it safe should anyone venture onto it and will finish it on my return.
This morning I have to arrange the farm for me to be away. I have to set up the cabin pasture for the cows and the north pasture for the sheep. I have to move several truckloads of lumber and make the mudroom porch ready for the builder, if he returns. (I haven’t heard from him again, so I have no idea if, in fact, he will return while I am in Connecticut.) Given the latter uncertainty, I crossed off moving the cookstove, yet another big chore. Next week.
I still have hours of work ahead, but it’s a reasonable list and now I can begin thinking about my grandbaby’s surgery tomorrow and packing to leave by 2 PM.