Where's the rest?

For me, there are two kinds of vacation: the active ones when I'm/we're on a trip or investigating interesting places, and the restful ones when I can relax and regenerate. So far this year has been the former, in spades.

Two days after our final day at school, little mister Bitey Boy came to live with us after being with my sister for about seven months. Being a rescued dog (from GA; no information about circumstances), he's somewhat a mystery. We think he'll be a year old in mid August. We think he's mostly terrier. We know that he has fits of insane energy in the later part of each day. We know he's smart, curious, persistent, headstrong, and unwilling to be pushed away or told no. He can be a cute, sweet cuddler, but he also paws at me with his strong little claws and nips or bites if I don't pay attention to him. He's a puppy, still, and we're only in week three of our lives together, and he's better than he was the first few days, but he still has to be leashed when he's outdoors and watched when he's indoors. Restful? I think not.

Three days after that, the focus on my mother went from several days a week to a daily deal for two solid weeks, some days from early morning to evening. Paperwork, phone calls, visits to counselor and doctor, more paperwork, measuring the new suite and making accurate floor plans, emailing siblings at length each day to keep them apprised of the situation, and then the nuts and bolts of The Big Move overwhelmed any other responsibilities. Personalities had to be taken into consideration, real and perceived heirlooms had to be accounted for, clothing and possessions were taken in truckloads and armloads to the new suite, and time was spent daily with Mom. It was a long haul but I came to understand better my propensity to be a packrat, and my goal for this summer is to simplify my own house as a result. I'm thinking that, now, my energies can be focused here at home for this endeavor with only one of her medical appointments for me to attend in August. The audiologist will have the results of a hearing test, and he'll give us an idea if we should investigate further with a neurologist.

The other concern is my life as an artisan. My shop exists in name only, at this point, since I haven't put out the OPEN flag even once this season. That means my income will flow from sales at the bakery gift shop - and the Lake bracelet of which I've already made seven - and two other shops in town (more upscale gift shop that asked for some bracelets to sell on consignment, and a hairdresser who displays consignment items from good quality artisans in her shop), and from craft fairs. It used to be that the craft fair season began with the Hebron Fair on the last Saturday in July, but now it begins a month earlier, and I'm sitting under my tent or at indoor tables every other Saturday. I already have one under my belt, and I had to stay up late a few nights to make product for it. The next one is this coming Saturday, and there's been much less of a scramble to get ready for it. This is the kind of activity that can be relaxing so I've been craving more time to do it.

The most restful pleasure in which I've been able to indulge twice so far is reading outdoors. I have three books going, and another that begs to be read, so I'm greatly anticipating the arrival of more sunny days, or even half days. Making jewelry and reading outdoors are such joys that they allow me to feel wealthy and satisfied. When we can figure out how to manage the Furry Little Bitey Boy (FLBB) and not have to supervise or avoid his teeth every waking moment, I'll be happy to read and bead and gain some much needed rest.