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Day Five of A Look into the Average Every Day Life of Keturah

I'm definitely fighting something. Probably the wind that did its best to not have me hike this week. I feel it still, blowing in my lungs, telling me to just stop and sleep.

Happily I awoke at 1am. But with little energy for reading, so promptly slept more until 6am. 

I've found someone to stay with while at the Yakima ball. They messaged me last night. Jerushah also used my bathroom spray as hairspray. Feeling weary about that... but mostly about the state of my head. I want to sleep and laugh and cry all at once. But I have a busy day ahead.

I grab water, echinacea, and vitamin C, then sip on an old kombucha. I read a Psalm. I remember a section about becoming a reproach to one's neighbors. 

As if neighbors are basically family, sharing in the shame of another's actions and being tied to their reputation. 

I beta read, then study Latin. Today is not a French day. 

A missing key has me a tad stressed. I search all the places I normally mindlessly lay objects. But it ends up being in my vest pocket. 

I start my car, take more herbs, put water on for oatmeal, dress, feed the sourdough and fill of the water filter. So many little things to do. I eat my oatmeal with kefir, collagen, maple syrup, sesame seeds, and goji berries. 

I'm feeling sad today. Good thing I'm sick and can't eat chocolate anyway. And my commutes aren't very far; hardly long enough for half a thought and a song on the radio.

I love my first client. On their middle floor they have a real Beauty and the Beast library. I've heard the master of the house doesn't like many people. But he likes me. Even liked my June short story... says I'm a good writer. He's one of the few people who really knows writing. I take the compliment to heart ;) 

Betsy, the matron, usually greets me with a big kiss on my cheek, and also asks if I've ate lunch and lectures me on my eating habits. She's taught me to make humus. But today I've come after breakfast, so I think I'll be good to go...

"Before you do anything. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

I thank her but tell her I don't usually drink coffee in the morning.

"I know you don't keep Christmas. But I have something for you." 

I show her my wool dress I've been making. She gets allexcited over it, and gives me a little baggie of appliques. 


Funny, it's the same brand as the sweaters I mended yesterday.

"Do you mind the Christmas music?"

They always have some sort of soft music playing. Today, to match the cut tree, holiday music. 

"I love Christmas music! I listen to it all year round." 

"Oh, good." She says. "My husband does, too. Every time the Mormon tabernacle's version of Noel plays he cries... so don't go in his office while that song is on if you don't want to see his tears!" 

Betsy emails me a list of embroidery stitches she's found then leaves for an appointment.

I clean for three and a half hours, listening to Woolf's To The Lighthouse. When I'm finished David shows me a house he is buying in Greece. 

"It's primitive," he says.

"That's my favorite part!" I say.

"Mine, too!" 

My next house is on the other side of my town. I think of stopping at my post office. It closes at 1:30. But I'm on a time crunch. 

I love the next lady I'm cleaning for, too. She introduced me to A Yellow Raft on Blue Water. We have little in common, but she roots for me, and I try to add cheer to her life. That being said, I need to cut down on my cleaning. I planned to hand her over to a neighbor.

On my way, they let me know they couldn't take on the house afterall. 

I call Jerushah to see if she wants to come along and be trained. She doesn't answer. 

No worries. Judy didn't know I was bringing anyone. I know how my clients tend to work: ask permission and they are hesitant and most likely to day no. Bring the replacement and they fall in love with the face. 
She need never know I was thinking of dropping her. 

I stop at home first and grab a piece of sausage and an Asian pear. I fill up my water thermos. There are Brazilian nuts in my car still.

I ring the door bell then walk in announcing my presence, going to her room. I have to say hello several times; always do. And every time my heart skips a beat... I have a ridiculous fear of what I might find. 

She is fine, but looks ten years older since I last cleaned for her before my travels. I smile, say it's good to see her. 

Normal cleaning? I love the new placement of the recliner. Oh, a dresser is missing!? So much more space! 

It's a small house, less than two hours of cleaning. I keep my audio book off when I'm near enough to converse with Judy. 

"Have you been reading anything lately?" I ask her. 

When I'm nearly done another woman shows. She's come to help Judy with other things. Her name is Ruth and she has a lovely accent that I think might be German...

Yes!! 

She suggests we speak in German. She begins the conversation and my brain elatedly knows the words and what to say! 

We talk about baking Christmas cookies. And where Judy might have put her car keys? I suggest her purse. But then I think, I bet they are in the glove basket... yes! I feel like I used some super duper Nancy Drew sleuthing of Sherlock detective skills. I really do believe those books have been applicable to life today. 

But the bit of German dialogue is the highlight. 

At home the water isn't running. I flip the correct breaker, then curl up on my blue couch and read a short story one of my friends just finished. It's a beautiful myth!!

I search for and print out a complaint form for a nasty cop... I even find his first name with a bit of googling. Happiness. 

I turn the tub on and work on the outer hem of my ball gown. I browse Twitter and visit with Jesse, Jerushah, and Jacob who are all sitting on different couches. Jacob is strumming a guitar. 

Jesse asks, "What do you think of Christmas? Do you really think it's as bad as Halloween?"

I joke, half serious, "I think Christmas is worst than Halloween. Better to honor the dead than birthdays. Seems more biblical even."

But he wants an actual conversation. Jerushah goes into a rant about how she scared the Mormon boys that came over to Mom's house last night by telling them that Joseph Smith was a liar because he wrote that the Sabbath was on Sunday. 

"And they didn't know some Mormons keep Saturday Sabbath. I made them angry." 

We laugh at our sister and Jesse turns the conversation back to his question. "Do you think it's pagan? But aren't we pagans?"

"We are gentiles," I say. "Paganism is an actual religion."

"That sacrifices people? Christmas doesn't do that anymore."

"Yeah. Are you wanting to start celebrating Christmas?"

"No. Just seems that it's neither good, nor bad. Just stupid," he says. 

"Ah. Yeah. I don't think it's really that bad."

Jerushah goes into lots of reasons why it is bad, very bad. As in stressful bad. They all meander away and Jacob moves to the piano. 

I go to my tub of water, then clip my toe nails. (Long toe nails are like the one thing that bother. Like why don't people just chop them off!?)

I cash a check with my bank app, update my cleaning calendar (I don't keep a schedule, but only write done what I've finished), then check to see if a client paid me. She hasn't so I'll text her on my way to work tomorrow. 

7:20 I return to my hem. Jonny comes in, "I it some egg nog in your fridge while you were in the bathroom" then he leaves right away. I finish the hem, and put the dress away... I'll look at it tomorrow. 

I read a chapter of Growth of the Soil and journal. It's 8:37. I'm worn tired and have a long day ahead of me tomorrow; shall begin my sleep now! 


This is part of a series requested by Melissa to share what my life looks the week leading up to Christmas. 


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