In preparation for taking my office from my cramped bedroom into the dining room, I spent the day cleaning out the area where I'm going to relocate it. It astounds me how quickly spiders sneak in when the weather turns chilly. I'm sure they're the ones who brought in the dust. It wasn't me.
Moving things, when one has a little one about, turns into a challenge. Pick up a little box and there are sequins, their shiny face upturned and giggling at me as I try to sweep them up in the vacuum. They taunt it. It spits them out, sometimes right at me. I put sticky tape on a broom handle and shove it into corners, but the sneaky little sprites turn over and run away. I prevailed. Mostly. I know there are a few of the crafty little things hiding, but I can't spend the entire day making them feel important.
After the cleaned and moved back box incident, I turned to the dog's cage. Lo and behold. Pippin had hidden great quantities of stuffing beneath the covers. I now know why the stuffed dog is so flat, why the stuffed bone lies limp at my feet, and why the couch's cushion is frazzled. The dog is mad about stuffing. So am I, if I consider Thanksgiving stuffing, both the bread kind and the stomach kind. But I don't hide it under my covers!
I moved a few more things, found dollies and dresses and stickers sticking out from impossible-to-reach cubbies. Ah well. The one corner of the room is now done. I only have three more to go. *sighs*
I didn't get to my writing today, but I am not sad. I am grateful that this one corner is done. I must remember that, as I tackle Ch. 26. I will do that tomorrow, but with the clear thought that if I can accomplish what I did in my 'office' with one corner, I can do the same with the one scene or the one moment that the Muse, I am sure, will hold before my face and scream, in mock fury, 'Do this now!' (oh, there's that dratted ! mark on the inside of the quote mark.)
Life is one moment.