Busy, busy.
I keep doing and doing things and there just keeps being more things to do. Although, today, one of the things to do is to read a book, so that’s not all bad. (My new freelance job involves the second book of a series, so naturally I had to read the first one to get up to speed.)
I worked in the yard a bit this afternoon, when we had a rare bit of sunshine. So did the across-the-back-fence neighbor, so we chatted a bit. He told me my yard is looking good–better, in fact, than it has in some years. Apparently the former owner sort of let it go by the time she moved out. I can see that; especially in the corners and edges that I’m excavating now. Though removing the tree last year helped a lot.
Yesterday, I did yet another open house (and it went well); afterwards, H. came over for dinner, and brought a lovely dessert:
Thursday is Mark Bourne’s funeral, so I’ll go up to Seattle on Wednesday. It feels strange to not be there now, but I think I would only be in the way. I will still make it on time to meet them at the funeral home, so it’ll be ok. Mark F. is there, if needed. It is all still so unreal to me. H. and I talked about this quite a bit last night–she lost a dear friend last year, quite unexpectedly. It was good to have someone to talk to about it, though I grieve for her loss too. Too much loss.