No wait! It's only mid-June!
Just feels like it cause I go back to work on Monday.
I was hyperventilating on Wednesday about it, causing Mr. Pom to decide that we shouldn't go to the Cape this weekend as I will just be wringing my hands and bemoaning my fate. But on Thursday morning, which was nice and sunny, I had a paradigm shift and realized that instead of thinking of it as the end to a long leave, think of the next 4 days as a 4-day weekend and do nothing but what I want.
And it worked. 'Cept for the part where I am still struggling with watercolors, or as I call it The Watercolor Portraits From the Bottom of The Dead Muddy Sea. Yes, you'll see them eventually. Maybe. If I ever round off an even number that I can stand to look at. But that's another post.
Have you seen Matchbox Magazine? There are quite a few amazing online magazines that appear just like our fave print ones. Makes me want to start a magazine, but I'm trying to stay focused. I will never stop buying lovely clay-printed magazines, but these are eye candy that are free and luscious and take up no space on your shelf.
Whizz over there and check out this feature, which caused me to go right to Amazon and order the book. Maybe later on I will paint the contents of what we travel back and forth with to the Cape. The dogs' junk will take up a page at least.
I shouldn't be ordering any books, but, really, don't you all agree that I really need this? Really, really?
Come on, illustrated inventories, thoughs, and enumerations! Be still my sketchbook heart!
Lastly, we had a major thunderstorm around 4:00 this morning. Poured buckets, stopped, and then poured some more. Poor Mr. Pom had to walk the dogs, and Bella Sera, she of the feminine mystique, refused to venture off the porch. (Hey, she didn't need a bad hair day right before the weekend!)
Taking her cue, I just let my curl and pulled the top back in a barette, my new summer style. Whilst I was in line for my caffeine, the dark morning provided a perfect reflection in the store window. As I looked the line up and down in the reflection, I wondered who the frumpy dump was with the Farm Wife hairdo.....oh, 'tis meself.
Off to find a hair appointment and a cut, avoid an argument with my hair stylist about not getting a Keratin ($$~~!!), and try to pull myself back into the legal world in less than 72 hours.
Kiss your fathers/male types of any kind this weekend, and remember that cake (coconut here) is the way to male type's heart.
