Week 15, Day 2

It's too nice a day to be stuck inside working, but here I am.

Wayne got the problematic landscaping job finished that day, and I'm frankly amazed. Naturally right at the latter stages the wifey wandered out and said her husband wanted plastic down under all the bark and shingle. Yep.. sure love. We can start right from scratch, dig up all the plants, lift up all the mulch & materials, and maybe we'll get the job finished by the end of next week, and the bill will triple. Wisely she decided it wasn't that important after all. Don't you just love people who wait until the end to decide to change something?

Still waiting to see if they pay up without a fight. Wifey seemed very happy with the result and didn't blink a bit at the bill (he magically came in under quote), so fingers crossed, eh?

Loony neighbour bailed up a neighbour on the other side of us in the village the other day, and apparently he's very upset that someone 'dobbed him in' to the council about his tip. Sam wisely advised that the council probably didn't need anyone to dob Loony in, as they drive up and down our road all the time, and have eyes of their own. (Good on ya Sam!)

(Why do I get the feeling those council workers didn't go and see if he was home after visiting me that day? Chickens.. pook pook pook! Hey don't feel bad guys... you wouldn't get me going up to that house for quids! But then, it's not my job, is it.)

Not that the letter is slowing Loony down.. he's STILL adding more cars and crap on a daily basis. Selwyn District Council, you're going to have to roll up your sleeves and get busy with this guy if you want to achieve anything positive. Never mind, I've got the whole winter (non fire season) to nag you about this before next summer's Nor'Westers roll around. I refuse to lose my farm over this guy's lunacy and officaldom's irresponsibility.

I've started 'giving notice' to the smaller, fiddlier of my clients that they have two months to replace me. They're mostly taking it very well, but a few are resisting. They're all darlings and I'm going to miss them, but it's just not possible for me to run around after very small clients who really only get a tiny bill at the end of my hard work. When you add in things like traveling, parking, time lost through multitudes of phone calls etc, sometimes I feel like I'm paying them!

Luckily there's only a few who fit this category, and most of these were inherited as 'favours', however like I said, I like all of the clients concerned so it's going to be a wrench. Put this control freak in a straight-jacket already ;-)

I got tired of waiting for Kaz Cooke's most excellent book to be available at the library again, and the ones on Trade Me are going beserk, so off I tootled to buy my own. Took some doing (amazing how few stores have Kaz in stock, but good old Scorpio Books came to my rescue again), but I ended up with not just her 'Up The Duff' book, but also the sequel "Kid Wrangling".

KW is even better than UTD, if that's possible. However being a complete idiot, I immediately became immersed and fixated. It's been many years since I babysat for pocket money and to appease neighbours & pony club instructors (loooong story). You always think you can remember everything, but you don't. Bits of learning get over-written by other life experiences, and suddenly you've forgotten more than you ever learned.

(Yes of course that's possible. If you are honest you'll admit it happens to you as well.)

Anyhoo, after two very late nights getting to bed (reading KW), I was in such a state of panic that Wayne had to talk me down. I'd convinced myself that it was all too much, I'd barely/maybe be able to cope IF I didn't have a business to run, a farm to think about, and a life. And that's only if bubs is healthy and a good baby, and I don't have any repercussions from the birth.

Let's not even add into the equation my original (PAH!) plan to get back into riding soon after the birth and get Grandly ready for SITE next Easter. In hindsight that's so laughable I need a padded room just to get over myself.

Oh yeah... I was freaked. I started to air my concerns to Daddy-to-be (who has zero experience with babies, let's be clear), and he told me I was overthinking the whole affair. How hard can it be?

(take me out and shoot me now)

So I'm still freaked, and gave myself a nosebleed from all the stress. Actually that was probably going to happen whether or not I was playing host to a mild panic attack - it's unlikely I'll get the bleeding gums associated with pregnancy, so if anything had to spring a leak, I'm happy it was my nose.

Just to add a little wrinkle to the proceedings, I'm being very good about filling out my 'Pack Tracks' cards which record every single cigarette, when and why. This of course reminds me constantly (and loads on guilt) that I'm in the process of quitting. Ah yes, just what I need right now. But then again, if I can hold firm and quit over the next month, then all the better.

Speaking of which, I think I can allow myself #2 fag of the day.... ;-?