So It Begins

Thank God it’s Friday.

Today I have to do a lot of things.

I’ve already taken care of the most important task of the day.

If you remember the end of TWA, the battle of Casa Claire, that is the stealthy silhouette of a lethal Claire waiting for an unsuspecting mercenary.

Breakfast awaits.

They are going to wonder why their first breakfast service comes much later next week.

Claire is already a little pissed at me. I was snapping a photo of the morning moon over the Three Witches yesterday morning, and happened to capture her during her morning constitutional. Her face says it all.

Of course, I have my kitty cuddling and rounds. I’ll have to explain to my morning regulars that I’ll be gone for a solid week, but shall return, so don’t forget me. I feel bad when I do that.

Lisa will see to Smokey and Mittens.

Most importantly, a little later this morning, I have to go see my Barber to the Universe, Anna – https://thewisenovelist.com/anna-the-barber/ – and beg that she whip this old face into some semblance of human.

I’m looking pretty ratty. Luckily, I’m great at begging.

Then I have to stop at Walmart at some point and buy twice as much fruits and veggies so I can prep for 10 days worth of mule meals apples, pears and carrots – at a limited 4 x 6 lb bags a day estimate, split between them, so that Lisa doesn’t cause an uprising in my absence from Casa Claire next week. I don’t want to be fielding angry calls from Claire’s agent. I’ll have to stock the barn and the basement fridges. Then I have to check on the troughs, clean up the wood shavings, shift some mule shit, make sure the hay rack is full, and that the barn radio is set to the NoCo alt rock station. Claire leans more towards Classical, but Honey seems more happily Contemporary. Claire indulges her younger charge’s musical influences.

Then I’ll create a list of detailed instructions which Lisa will ignore.

People wonder why I never travel anywhere.

Then, I have some lawyering to do, and then try to make it over to the opening of the Berthoud Literary Festival later this evening, and watch a far more prominent and respected writer wax eloquently during that ceremony.

Tonight, I’ll have to go through my punch list of things I need to bring with me to NYC next week (luckily Lisa already packed my clothes – so if I’m dressed a little oddly, remember, I’m colorblind, you’ll know she did it on purpose.) But then there’s still the smaller stuff like phone and laptop chargers, my working set of books for the readings and a few other books, amulets, and other mystical trinkets for luck and company.

I’m not a good traveler. I always forget something.

And when everything else is done and dusted, I need to make some time to go back over my selections for my readings tomorrow.

Don’t want to disappoint. Not for Berthoud’s First Literary Festival. I need to do my part and help put it on the map.

The lead up to anything important is always drudgery, but once I show up, the switch gets thrown and it looks like it is all second nature. Bullshit muscle memory.

Well, I better get moving.

You fine, five readers get that last cuppa coffee in you, stop by the office just long enough to hand in your latest project so that people can swear they saw you, and then sneak out the side door. The weekend awaits.

Off to do my kittie-cuddling and my rounds.

If any of you are in the NoCo area this weekend, stop by the Berthoud Literary Festival. Trust me, you’ll want to brag about it to your grandchildren.

And, no matter what else any of us get up to, let us all make today a great one.