Today was LeAnn's training day at the shop. She and Melly have been coerced into being Clementine whilst I'm resting comfortably on Percocets and popsicles next week. The register is no problem, nor the actual "customer relations" aspect. The tricky bit will be wielding the rotary cutter without bloodshed. I expect all her digits intact when I come back, unlike this unlucky son (Poor baby... and poor mom!) Pop over and wish that little man well. Steph, if I lived next door, you'd be properly medicated. *smooches*
The haus needed some attention this evening when I arrived home. It's not catastrophic by a long ways (okay, some parts of Becher Haus are teetering on the abyss, but I've trained everyone to not look down), but the idea of staying home and enjoying my convalescing in a pit of despair is especially unappealing. I may have scrubbed a toilet. I certainly began another load of laundry. The vacuum cleaner will undoubtedly be called into service later for a quick swipe at the bunnies/buffalos in the corners. I can see dust balls clinging to the cat when she crawls out from under the bed. Yes, there is much to deal with before Tuesday. I may even fire up the mop *gasp* and tackle the sticky bits on the kitchen floor. I know. Strange that my 'hospitalization' is just for tonsils, and not the nervous breakdown I'll have worked myself into prior to my surgery.
I must go make sure all the Becher chirruns are properly cleaned and brushed and ready for bed. It's getting dark and a few quiet hours of knitting are in order before I call it a day. I have a great many projects on the needles, and precious few things are getting finished. I'm trying to get a second sock done for the snappy little shop-keep to wear while she's filling my shoes. Latah, knittahs. C