Bunkhouse work day. 10:00 sharp. Ish. Don’t forget my lunch!

Sal may have the day off. Hard to say with her. Most of the cleaning is done. This weeks baking is done. It’s a nice day. No logging without the ‘winch guy’. Could be a day off.

Never gonna happen.

Sal doesn’t do ‘days off’. If she has a day off, she hikes up a mountain or paints the house or goes gold panning or something. A ‘day off’ for her is a misconstrued construct that involves work. We’ve talked about it…..

“Maybe you should just get a box o’ bon bons, turn on the tube and read your book while sipping mint julips while your dogs lounge at your feet? Seems to work for most people? Waddya say? Gonna take it easy today?”

“Absolutely. I got a new Vanity Fair and the lounge is outside and it has a reserved-for-Sally sign on it! I am there! Just gonna fix you lunch and do breakfast and the dishes but then lookout cushions!”

“I am gonna defrost the freezer, tho. And do the laundry since it is such a nice day. Plus there is all that paperwork I have to get finished for the group. Plus the newsletter for book club. But that is nothing. I am gonna spend some serious horizontal time today. You can bet on that!”

“Want me to take the dogs?”

“No! Me and the dogs will go for a nice walk. I was going to go up to the old cabin and give it a bit of a clean. Plus they like to chase sticks for a bit. No, I got the dogs.”

“OK. But, ya know I’ll be back by four. How ya gonna ‘take it easy’ if you do all that while I am gone?”

“That!? Sweetie, that and tending to the garden, working the compost and sorting the recyclables plus hanging the laundry is taking it easy! Maybe you can help with dinner?”

“Nah, I’ll be too tired by then. But I’ll pour the wine.”

A man has to know his limits.