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Homeward GINGIEEEEE! Loch = The Troll My Brother Nate Chibba Language Various & Sordid |
 
Disclaimer: Since this is meant to be a personal journal of our days, some information may crop up from time to time about certain persons outside of the immediate family. I will only post information that I deem to be public knowledge...stuff that's "out there". I am also very likely to post opinions...maybe this is a little inflamatory to some. Count yourself forewarned. Don't email me all ticked off, OK? We plowed the garden, and put logs around the outside, for that neat-o rustic look I like. We've got tomatos and strawberries and beans. We've logged a few deer tracks, but no casualties as yet. All the stuff I've planted is generally surviving alright, despite me. I've made some new buddies at work. I've put in a little over time... We are the wonder workers who do the emergency restraining orders for wives at 4:45. It is my month to be at the mercy of the elderly nit-picky judge. I work. Hard. I don't wake at night. I'm all profeshy now. Taco Bell is our new friend. I finished my frog painting a few weeks back, and it now hangs in Barry's office. I don't dare pick up the brush now to start another painting, for fear that it will sit there half-finished for months. It's just as well, because I'm getting the itch to paint the living room. Loch is rotten, and is much more high-maintenance than usual. We thought he was getting another ear infection because he was pulling on his ear, but the doctor said his ears looked perfectly fine. The little faker... He is Mama's boy now. (But he probably still loathes me.) He constantly wants to be held by me. But can I complain about that? Oh no. Well, yes a little, because it's hard to go potty with a 38 pound kid wrapped about your waist. Speaking of potty... Loch is learning. We were outside last weekend, and loch was running about with nothing but his sneakers on. He began to peepee, and realized it was going down his leg. He freaked, and Barry rushed him to the potty. And our little genius actually held it until he got there. I'm due to be in Tiffany Hood's wedding on Saturday, and I could use a haircut and a serious pampering. But there is no time. I am also expected to show up with silver shoes to wear in the wedding, and have as yet found none that don't kill my celtic toes. So sorry, Tiffany, if I have to wear white shoes. No one's gonna be looking at my gnarly feet, anyway, with your fabulous self in the room. I have tonight scaled and conquered Mount Laundry. I am woman. Hear me roar. mew. |
