… as long as they don’t contain too much to actually do.
I am a gifted to-do list-maker. I write to-do lists that list the to-do lists that I need to write.
Lately I am spending a lot of time looking around my farm and writing conceptual to-do lists of all the maintenance that  I should be thinking about and  that I should be writing the actual executable to-do lists for, that will list the actual to-dos needed to prep the farm for winter. Usually, nothing actually comes from all of this looking and thinking and writing, but I give myself brownie points for walking around and looking at possible future when-I-am-good-and-ready farm chores. I also give myself brownie points for having nice handwriting.
The problem is that I am a bit dyslexic when it comes to accurately writing down what I am actually seeing.
what my eyes see: (barn needs cleaning and repair)
what I write down:
seen: (horse-bent gate needs to be put back on its hinges) (and turkey needs to be put in the freezer for Thanksgiving)
I don’t know what it is about autumn. Perhaps my maternal instinct, which has never wanted anything What-So-Ev-Er to do with any actual human children, foresees the cold and wet and mud involved with winter caretaking of large outdoor-style creatures, and prefers to ignore them and care for some little indoor-style creatures inside, where it will be slightly warmer and/or not quite as wet and muddy as outside.
Or, more likely, my version of maternal instinct does not even wish to care for little indoor creatures as much as just to pile them in furry stacks on the bed to serve as extra pillows. (Aside: I don’t need them for warmth. I am and always have been, change of life notwithstanding, Way Too Hot. I build a fire in my woodstove just to add cozy visual ambience to my knitting/reading nest in the living room. The rest of my house stays at the same comfortable temperature as the one in the magic ice cube-making compartment in my fridge.)
Or my maternal instinct does desire the pitter patter of tiny feet. Galloping in fours at top puppy- or kitten-speed away from me when I am trying to catch them to show them Pee Pee Outside or Pee Pee In The Box, depending on the young’un’s Genus. After they have Pee Peed Inside Anywhere They Feel Like for the third time inside of 30 minutes.
Reminds me to add something to the fall chore to-do-someday list.
There was a time a few years ago when there were usually not less than 5 animals in my bed at bedtime. Not counting me.
I kid you not. Meet my bed.
I slept so well then. Now, with only one dog with the athletic ability to jump on my bed without assistance, and one cat who graces the very foot of my bed only now and then, and only when that dog, her favorite, is snoring comatose nearby, I don’t sleep well at all.
So, I’m thinking two or three kittens and a puppy should do it.