OMG a new toilet! and a sweet surprise.

I'm not sure what this says about my social life, but OMG I got a new toilet!  It had been languishing in its giant box for over two years - waiting for me to make up my mind as to whether I was going to put it in or have someone who actually knows what they're doing put it in.  Luckily, common sense won out over delusions of competence and time.  It also helps that I finally found a plumber that will a) show up; b) come on a weekend (Sunday); c) not charge me an arm and a leg.  As it turned out, the Pat loved the plumber almost as much as he loves my handiguy, Billy.  I had to shut the door in order to let him work in peace.  The Pat wanted to be 'helpful', as did Lovey, but...

Saturday was a lovely day - one of those glowing fall days in the Northeast that makes all the leaves look luminous.  It was warmish, with a nice breeze and everyone seemed to be in a happy mood.  Lovey gets the zoomies in this weather, so I try to let her out in the back fenced-in part of the sheep paddock so she can safely get it out of her system.  The Pat just ricochets around, yapping.

I got my hair cut, met my sister at the farmers market, visited with a couple of farmers that I know, admired the pies at the apple pie contest table, and made my parental pilgrimage of the week.  Then I did a little shopping and stopped to see Marianne and hit the transfer station on my way home.  It was a very pleasant day, but I was knackered when I finally came through the front door.  Knackered or not, the sheep were bleating, and the dogs were pointedly looking at their empty food dishes.  Just as I collapsed on the sofa after evening chores, there was a knock at the front door (setting off the deafening dog alarm).  It was my neighbor up the road - with a pint jar of his own honey as a thank you for planting all the flowering perennials enjoyed by his bees!  Woot!

Sunday was a stay-at-home day.  I fed the farm cats and then applied myself to garden clean up and house clean up.  The fence is down, rolled up and stashed away for the winter.  I've gone around the raised beds with the weed trimmer, the grass has had its final mowing, and a goodly amount of trimming, yoinking and cleaning up has been done outside.  I steam cleaned the kitchen floor (I so love my floor steamer), did three loads of laundry and got it on the line, vacuumed and dusted(ish) and cleaned the bathroom so as not to horrify the plumber, then got dinner started.  I had invited my neighbor who mows and trims for me over for Sunday dinner.  As I sashayed around the kitchen, thinking about my new toilet and clean kitchen floor (so, so, smugly), I looked down and realized that my package of cornstarch had sprung a leak.  As any of you who have dealt with cornstarch knows, this is a disaster of epic proportions.  The more you try to contain it, the more it wafts over every surface within an arm's reach.  Within a nanosecond, I had cornstarch on my counter, floor, shoes, pants and dogs.  It doesn't pay to be smug.  By the time my neighbor arrived, everything had been recleaned and was in order - except, of course, for the cook.  My hair was standing on end (probably generously dusted with cornstarch) and I had started adult libations without him.

And then it was Monday.