The lot next door had not sold. I suspect my western neighbour’s rather unkempt lot and the proximity of my home makes the lot less appealing than more isolate ones. I’m happy it hasn’t sold. I’m sure it will, but maybe not until next year.
Today I must tear through the day. GIRO, our recycling center is open and I have to do three trips with my cache of recyclables. I’ve also to go to the nursery to see if they will donate plants for the raffle. And while I’m there, I’ll get myself more shade plants to replace some of my deceased flora and get an estimate for the soil I’ll need for a new front lawn.
Plus: There’s the palace. I’ve the door to put on room three and I’ve to attach it to rooms one and two and then I’ve got to do room three. I’d say I’m about a quarter way through that room; I’ve built it but it’s completely naked of decoration and fenestration.
I’ve a big meeting with my boss about the raffle tomorrow. I think wisdom will prevail and that she or someone who has to be present on the festival site all the time will have to manage the raffle ticket sellers, not me. If that decision is made, my raffle work will be soon finished and I can get back to just managing this place.
Half an acre, three pets and a largish home (compared to a condo) and the management of so much equipment (my water system, the hot tub, a car—all new to me) is a lot to care for.
A homeless person?
This morning I went into my studio—it is not locked—and the heat was on. I was working in there all day yesterday and the heat, duh, was not on; it was 32° outside!
The baseboard heater is under a counter and impossible to accidently activate. Also, I don’t use it and I doubt Sheba can turn the tiny switch. I use a cheaper oil heater.
It creeped me out. I looked around and nothing appears to be missing but I’ve a billion things in there for my crafting and it’s impossible to tell. I’ve a nice big bed-life sofa that Sheba uses every day I’m in there. She used it yesterday and left moss bits and leaves all over it. They were on the floor this morning.
Tonight I’ll do things I’ve seen in movies. I’ll put a barely visible thread across the doors to see if they are opened tonight. I don’t care if someone sleeps there, but soon I’m billeting someone in there and so I want to know what’s going on.