A mishmash week + end this last week. Some stuff I can’t get into other than to say big ideas coming to our local restaurant, Happy Turtle Soup Tureen, in terms of the actual biz side, but how best to use our certain tithe/charitable allotments most effectively. The plot thickening when part of you suspects resources will be wasted on people just wanting a handout, and the other side saying you can’t see hearts or control results so go ahead and give and leave it in God’s only capable hands.
Other biz news: Getting to the place where we have enough cash flow again to venture into larger investments that could make the establishment more productive like buying bulk enough to drop beef cost by almost a dollar! Sorry, if you run a restaurant you get really excited by drops in costs . . . inversely you are tempted with umbridge when you find out that your bulk eggs cost you more than buying a case at Walmart!
Then we had the Shabbat/Sabbath to rest, which was nice, but I ask for a little more sun. Somehow cloudy days don’t seem as restful since they imprison you inside with that mold you don’t have the time/money to deal with.
Down to my last 100 pages of final edit for New Arbor Day. Very excited. I’ll be glad to walk away and never look back, at least until I start earnest work on the sequel . . . which will be after my current secondary WIP: Evangeline. Might be done with those 100 by the end of today (yeah right).
Between starting the day off with a wisening dose of Song of Songs, and being interrupted with the need to keep a watch out for that Coyote looking to finish off my last surviving chicken, it’s tough. Man, we need a dog that can run some things off. Anyone have a young Akida perhaps? Pup enough to learn to love cats and not chase chickens but will grow to be able to take a Coyote down in a fight?
Oh well. I still have some .22’s left. There’s a paradox for you. I’m a Marine, inactive, honorably discharged. I trained over and over to shoot, stab, or otherwise disable by any means an enemy combatant, but I drag my feet when it comes to butchering a chicken or shooting the endless food chain that also enjoys their farm fresh meat! I might not have even shot at this one if I didn’t remember that he killed two of my chickens day before yesterday, was looking for the last, and would probably go after my cats next.
Sorry, Wiley, but the next acme bullet has your name on it.