Marching Forth

No one around here appreciates my instructions to March forth today. Then again, eldest is also getting tired of me saying, "Hi hungry, I'm Mom." Every time he tells me he's hungry. Flip side? I'm tired of him telling me he's hungry. He knows where the kitchen is and how to make himself a snack. It's honestly strange how he only wants to talk to me when he wants something from me. Outside of those timeframes? He acts as though it's the Spanish Inquisition.

Which, of course, no one expects.

I have a piano tuner here today, finally.

After we moved (has it been three years now? I think it has. Oops.) I wanted to let it settle and acclimate a bit before getting a tuner out. But after six or eight months, I called the guy we've been using and we had, apparently, crossed juuuussst over the line of how far he was willing to travel.

Fair enough.

So I scoured some of the area FB groups and found some recommendations and...none of them wanted to come this far either. (I had this same issue with mobile dog groomers. They say they service my area. Their little map on their site SHOWS my street...but when I reach out, nope. Too far. Whatever.)

ANYWAY. After six or seven attempts, I got frustrated and life got all lifey and I totally put the piano tuning on the back burner because I'm the only one who plays it, and I could deal with a sour note here or there if I needed to.

But I finally remembered that I needed to do it in...December? And a little Googling turned up this guy and he keeps pretty busy, it seems, because today was the earliest he could come.

Which I mean, that's fine. It's not going anywhere.

But hey, the piano's getting tuned.

Youngest, of course thinks this is the best thing ever because it allows him to watch the piano be taken apart and then ask the man, "Have you ever seen a huge tarantula in the forest?" Because of course that's what you ask a piano tuner.

I shooed him downstairs to play. 

The Sleepy Pups are trapped in the office with hubby because they want nothing more than to bark their little schnauzer heads off at him. Because schnauzers.

Anyway. None of this has to do with Marching Forth, but whatever. I mostly figured it was time to pop over and say, "I'm not dead!"