We leave tomorrow morning, 8 A.M. sharp, on our first vacation in years. Actually, I do believe it's the first vacation we have taken (longer than an overnight) since we have had animals. I very luckily managed to contract a farmsitter who seems to be competent, knowledgeable, and honest, insofar as I can judge on short acquaintance. Short acquaintance is all I had, because the farmsittter I had previously hired bugged out on me two weeks before our departure date. Apparently she got pregnant or something. Sheesh.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
People who know me but shallowly often think I am a relaxed, easygoing sort of person, not given to worry or obsession about details. Ha! Those who know me best know I am an iron-fisted control freak whose need to micromanage everything is a vain attempt to compensate for my innate disorganization and basic slovenliness. Hi Mom! Recognize anybody? Love you!
What this means for immediate circumstance is that I have spent the last couple of hours writing out an exaughstive how-to manual for the farm and household. My last post here was a treatise on milking - it may have seemed quite thorough to you, but let me tell you, it was just the beginning. My finished manuscript (there is no other word for it) runs to seven handwritten pages.
And here's the thing - I swear, I only included the absolute basics. I covered nothing more than essential information - how many scoops of feed for each species of animal; where the glass milking jars, lids, and filters are; the fact that the hose leaks so you have to turn it off at the spigot after watering; the fact that Iris can open the door to the mama barn if the latch is not turned down just so - you get the picture. The second half of the document consisted of directions on how to operate stuff inside the house - the computer password, the intricate workings of the high-tech dryer, the TV remote, etc.
Even now I am thinking of all sorts of things I did not include that might be essential. For example, Ivory (our older dog) needs to go outside at about 6 a.m. every morning to pee, so it's probably easier to just have her sleep in the playroom. Lancelot (the collie) has been causing trouble with the neighbors (He Doesn't LOOK Like a Bad Dog (Neighborly Relations)) so he should not be let out for any reason. I put that in the letter, but I didn't put in that if you leave the sliding glass door open even a tiny crack, he can push it the rest of the way open with his needle-nose and escape. Should I revise the letter? Put on a P.S.?
Or should I take a freakin' chill pill?
Yeah, I think so too... but I have to go check over the packed luggage for the third or fourth time. I'm sure I've forgotten something.