Except for the facts that I own a Toyota and I don't like motorcycles, the rest of this Beach Boys lyric fits fairly well. Things are moving along, and I certainly do not keep left.
So, although it doesn't seem like much happened, I feel as if a wave is coming in that I'll be able to ride for a while. The yard is in good shape and I'm working up the energy to do a lot of spray-washing and waterproofing and bleeblah, perhaps this weekend. I really need to take a day off work and clean my house. It is scandalous, as a result of staying up til 4 and 5 a.m. and spending all my time working on the book.
But! The payoff of those late hours is that I have officially completed my first round of revisions and placed my manuscript in the hands of a capable editor friend and a noted local history buff. I have every confidence that these two people will save me from myself.
The rest of the weekend was lovely, as well. On Friday, I set my nose to the microfiche grindstone at the library and found two final puzzle pieces on my narrative that I had been seeking for months, then had lunch with NeighborGirl. On Saturday, my boys graciously came along with me for a tour of the Brentsville jail—and I think even the Young Prince was a little impressed with the tour and the vibe. I really do hope that I can work this so that publication of the book and the jail opening come close to coinciding. We went to the Nationals game on Sunday and even the YP got interested in the game, although he also read his book for a couple innings. Monday was yard work and naps.
The other big thing I did this weekend is I bought an "electronic foot file," which is basically a big dremel to sand down heel calluses. I go barefoot as much as I am able, though I wear shoes all winter, and every spring my feet are ... Not Attractive, let's say. And I have tried everything—creams, pumice stones, those callus razors—and nothing was ever particularly effective, so I figured this might be good money after bad, but I am a slave to consumerism. I didn't even wait to get home, I fired it up in Not Your Average Blogger's car. This led to much dismay on his part, as the thing was actually quite effective and soon his front dash was coated in a layer of powder-fine foot-dust (a material that you really don't want to think very much about, trust me). After an hour of steady work on my part (and piles and piles of said dust, it is a VERY messy process), my heels are the nicest they have been since I was a teen-ager. Even NYAB commented on them, and he is not particularly verbal regarding most of my self-improvement projects. So, yes, I endorse this one, wholeheartedly.
And now I face another week of work, though I hope to spend some of my off-hours putting a dent in non-paid work that will beautify the other spots of my life. I imagine a fair amount of this will be put off in favor of harassing the YP as he practices piano, however. I'm sure he will be delighted if he reads this.