See, this is what was supposed to happen. I was to babysit Big Head Ted this weekend, take HRH Tuppence Marie to water therapy on Monday and Tuesday, I was to go to the cabin. My family's lake cabin. And then I was to write. Write. And write some more.
Alas. This is not to be.
Evidently, there is snow everywhere and my dad and uncle can't get to the crawlspace under the cabin to turn on water and electricity. [It's a summer cabin and shut down for the winter.]
And then there are the bats.
Yes, bats like the attic space in the cabin and need to be encouraged to live elsewhere. So the attic has to be made bat-proof and bat condos have to be established. I'm not sure if there will be a bat condo association, but it might be a good idea. Bats are, after all, party animals.
Now I have to find a way to write every day of this time off without being distracted by my home. And my yard. And the forty-five kabillion things that need to be done.
No problem, right?