As predicted, I didn’t get a lot done in terms of cleaning last night, at least, not much that wasn’t directly related to food prep and cleanup. I did bake three loaves of soda bread, made buttermilk “champ”— mashed potatoes with onions and lamb steak with an Irish whiskey finish, and I heated up a broccoli kugel. And mom was more appreciative and gracious, so we didn’t get into it.
I was able to run a stool sample to the vet and pick up the dog’s meds over lunch, so I had time to make the soda bread and prepare dinner and we ate at 8 p.m., not 9:30, as I had started to fear we would.
But I didn’t manage much else, in the way of housework. I loaded the dishwasher and ran it, and this morning I emptied a trash, before I ran the dog to the vet for the day. I make my bed everyday. They didn’t find evidence of a parasite in the sample I brought them yesterday. I brought them two more samples this morning, and told them they could let me know that I was just wrong— that he’s fine and I’m too close to the situation, so I’ve started seeing things. I’d rather that than that I actually saw evidence of a problem I chose not to deal with.
And mom and I just have two more nights of togetherness to go, before we get a break from each other. We can do it!