My days turn into weeks far quicker than I like.
It means that the days I don't get finished what I'd like to, are all too quickly becoming weeks of incomplete tasks.
Last week I'd planned an outright attack on the house. Walls to be washed, windows cleaned, a general Spring-clean, only a month early.
It started well. Straight into the kitchen with guns ablazing. Pantry emptied, cleaned, culled and re-packed. Walls. And ceilings. Washed. Fridge emptied and suitably sanitised.
Unfortunately Tuesday saw me back on molasses rounds, an almost all-day task.
Wednesday was a preg-testing job which again took all day. Don't mind me looking at my watch, I'd just far prefer to be scrubbing ceilings than feeling for baby calves in the back end of cows. So many reasons to be grateful not to have been born a cow!
Thursday and Friday were wiped when upper management moved to start our annual bovine vaccination program, involving sorting, drafting, putting cull cows aside to be trucked to Chabo, much like 'spring cleaning' but of the paddocks!
The weekend was then spent backing and forthing to Chabo, with cows to the meatworks, cows up there to fatten, cows back here to calve, far too much to-ing and fro-ing.
And this week I've again managed one day in the house, and the office has received a make-over of sorts.
It's much like painting the Sydney Harbour Bridge though. Not that I have. But by the time you reach the end the start's in need of another touch-up. If only those children would stay out of the pantry.