Contrary to what some might imagine, even the Duchess of Longleaf (moi) must arise from her life of studying ancient texts while reclining on a white leather chaise and being fed peeled grapes by the Duke to, (oh it pains me to say this), clean the damn mansion. I’ve changed the blog header from those evocative, but dreary, dead pine trees (thank you, Hurricane Ivan), to the gorgeous cone-flowers from last summer to cheer me while I work.
I just learned that taking a butcher knife to the large corrugated box that brought Lou’s most recent 34 pound bag of dog food is a great warm-up for the task ahead and really, quite satisfying. Normally
Buck the Duke takes a huge machete to empty shipping boxes and slashes them into even pieces that will fit in the recycle can, but this morning he has not yet arisen and this particular empty box has offended my eye, thus, the butcher knife. Lou retreated to her kennel in the Lodge to allow her mistress’s strange mania to pass. All in all, not a bad upper body workout!
I fear I’ve let our three days of bleak winter here on Florida’s Gulf coast get to me, and have scattered old New Yorker and Harper’s magazines, along with continually in progress novel chapters that I will one day as God is my witness finish, and temporarily forgotten that some fine morning our realtors will call and say that an oil tycoon or shipbuilding magnate wants to come look at the house. In an hour.
I don’t want to be like one of those biblical maidens who failed to keep their lamps filled with oil. So, to work! Catch y’all later.