Somewhere here in the "Maintenance Phase" of my personal therapy, I took to organizing the Puppets in my head into puppet shows. I have been at it for long enough to feel like I could give Jim Henson's legacy a run for its money. I am gaining the confidence with the technique. It at least brings a sense of order to the chaos and empowers me to appoint myself as the director of the noise between my ears.

Predictably enough, the noisiest puppet show in my head is from my career: Engineering/construction/science. No degrees. Just work and passion. Despite half a century of logic-ripping extremes and confusion, I am still quite passionate about my tools, et al. My brain seizes painfully with every attempt use them, but my drive to do so remains as stubborn as a two-year-old after a kitten.

I didn't get the roof on the couch-to-coop conversion yesterday, but that's okay. It progressed well and I left it clean and ready for today's work.

Hubs is sick and took the day off to take preventative measures. Seriously good news. His reflex is to work himself to death and taking preventative measures rather than pushing himself to a full-blown health crisis qualifies as a breakthrough in my wifey book. Maybe those near death experiences last November thru April actually taught him something.

Best of all, he simply listened to me -restfully- as I sorted the puppet show rather than "Manning-up" and and co-opting my project by doing his proper "Honey Do." My hubs inspires me to hub-i-cide when he starts doing the Honey Do. It always gives me images of him squeezing an over-ripe honey dew melon over my head. Sticky icky. . .

Been realizing that one of the catch phrases out of my engineering puppet show is, "You can't possibly understand."

Still sorting. . .