My husband is a quirky neat man.
It's 1 AM and he's gone to the 24 hour Walmart to buy a telescope so we can watch Mars because we don't figure we'll even be a memory in cosmic dust when it next comes this close to us again.
I worry vaguely about the astrological consequences of having the red planet -- the planet of confrontation and conflagration so close to us.
I'm dressing in sweats and blankets to watch the last of the Perseids, too. We have seen a half dozen tonight.
Russell's birthday bash is tomorrow, but once every 60000 years is important, too. *shrug*
Sleep is for undergrads.
Saturday, August 30, 2003
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
Sunday, August 24, 2003
The harvest has started. As late as I put it my garden, I probably don't deserve vegetables, but it's producing nonetheless. Right now, I've got yellow squash in droves and I'm starting to realize I've got hot peppers to beat the band, and the apple tree that I managed to water a few times is starting to show ripe apples. I need to go buy streamers to keep out the birds, so I can collect enough to freeze applesauce. I'm also thinking to make some apple pie filling and freeze it for the pies I want in November.
I love that I am a homeowner. I love that I have fruit trees and that I can dream of fruit orchards and a larger garden next year. I love that my husband dreams it right along with me and watches my face light up as I talk excitedly about the possibilities and he simply smiles.
***
I've been in a funk for the past month because I haven't been able to exercise due to my broken rib. Without exercise, I invariably gain weight, so I'm pretty bummed about that, but I found a faculty member at the chair's BBQ on Friday who wants to swim at the Y with me. Yeah! Next week makes 6 weeks of broken rib, so while I'm still not sleeping on that side, I am going to be exercising and losing weight, dammit.
I love that I am a homeowner. I love that I have fruit trees and that I can dream of fruit orchards and a larger garden next year. I love that my husband dreams it right along with me and watches my face light up as I talk excitedly about the possibilities and he simply smiles.
***
I've been in a funk for the past month because I haven't been able to exercise due to my broken rib. Without exercise, I invariably gain weight, so I'm pretty bummed about that, but I found a faculty member at the chair's BBQ on Friday who wants to swim at the Y with me. Yeah! Next week makes 6 weeks of broken rib, so while I'm still not sleeping on that side, I am going to be exercising and losing weight, dammit.
Friday, August 22, 2003
I have the hardest time with breakfast. I always have. I was horrible before I diagnosed with diabetes because all I would have for breakfast was Mountain Dews. I figured the sugar was enough calories and that the caffeine would save me. Of course, I got drowsier and drowsier on sugar, as I drank more and more trying to get caffeinated. I also noticed that Diet Dew would make me feel better, but it's just not nearly as smooth as the sugared stuff.
Lately, with all the changes, I'm falling back into my bad patterns again. I'm not eating breakfast.
Um, *drool* I love bagels. They are essentially (1 g) fat-free, but they do constitute four carbohydrates, which means I mostly don't ever eat a whole one, or if I do, I plan on swimming or walking afterward, so my sugars don't do something awful. Of course, all that sugar can convert to fat, too, which really blows. Cuz, there is NOTHING on God's green earth as tasty fresh as a nice fresh garlic/onion bagel lightly toasted with cream cheese (light or fully loaded)!
My only other breakfast alternative is having a quesadilla smothered in homemade chipotle green salsa and sprouts. I use whole wheat (98% fat free - no lard) tortillas, enough grated sharp cheddar to barely cover half of it, a smidge of olive oil on teflon, and then I load it with salsa and sprouts. (Don't tell the rednecks I'm a transplanted, sprout eating, former Californian, or I'm way screwed.)
My quick breakfast is a V-8 and a balance bar (usually one of those fake chocolate ones), but I don't have any V-8 and the balance bar is never enough on its own and god forbid, I'd have to eat two. I can eat one, but two just makes me go 'ick' because I can talk my way through one with that odd protein aftertaste, but definitely not two.
And try as I might, I cannot convince myself that Kashi tastes good, nor do my sugars appreciate the milk. It's okay, but it's sooo high sugar and the milk just about kills me. I try to gag a bowl down once in a while, but truthfully, my perfect diabetic breakfast is about a half cup of low-fat cottage cheese with a cup of berries with a small cup of lite syrup peaches.
Okay, so while tomorrow is going to be hectic, I'm going to make a point to get out to the kitchen and eat some damned breakfast before I leave.
Lately, with all the changes, I'm falling back into my bad patterns again. I'm not eating breakfast.
Um, *drool* I love bagels. They are essentially (1 g) fat-free, but they do constitute four carbohydrates, which means I mostly don't ever eat a whole one, or if I do, I plan on swimming or walking afterward, so my sugars don't do something awful. Of course, all that sugar can convert to fat, too, which really blows. Cuz, there is NOTHING on God's green earth as tasty fresh as a nice fresh garlic/onion bagel lightly toasted with cream cheese (light or fully loaded)!
My only other breakfast alternative is having a quesadilla smothered in homemade chipotle green salsa and sprouts. I use whole wheat (98% fat free - no lard) tortillas, enough grated sharp cheddar to barely cover half of it, a smidge of olive oil on teflon, and then I load it with salsa and sprouts. (Don't tell the rednecks I'm a transplanted, sprout eating, former Californian, or I'm way screwed.)
My quick breakfast is a V-8 and a balance bar (usually one of those fake chocolate ones), but I don't have any V-8 and the balance bar is never enough on its own and god forbid, I'd have to eat two. I can eat one, but two just makes me go 'ick' because I can talk my way through one with that odd protein aftertaste, but definitely not two.
And try as I might, I cannot convince myself that Kashi tastes good, nor do my sugars appreciate the milk. It's okay, but it's sooo high sugar and the milk just about kills me. I try to gag a bowl down once in a while, but truthfully, my perfect diabetic breakfast is about a half cup of low-fat cottage cheese with a cup of berries with a small cup of lite syrup peaches.
Okay, so while tomorrow is going to be hectic, I'm going to make a point to get out to the kitchen and eat some damned breakfast before I leave.
Thursday, August 21, 2003
Tired and wet. Those are today's words.
It's been raining, which in the desert in mid-August is a welcome thing in many ways, it's also a big pain in the patooty.
I'm really worn out. I've been doing a lot of good stuff and on top of it all, shhhh, I'm going to start putting together that book. I talked with my old professor today and I asked her about it and she got me thinking about the where to start place, so I am going to start with a prospectus. I'm not clear what that is, exactly, but apparently, Prentice-Hall has a website to give you a good idea.
I know some of the books they published out of some of the dumbest professors at UC Davis, so I can't imagine that they wouldn't be interested in this.
I have to really consider that audience though. Who are you audience? Are you parents or teachers or student teachers or just exactly what?
It's been raining, which in the desert in mid-August is a welcome thing in many ways, it's also a big pain in the patooty.
I'm really worn out. I've been doing a lot of good stuff and on top of it all, shhhh, I'm going to start putting together that book. I talked with my old professor today and I asked her about it and she got me thinking about the where to start place, so I am going to start with a prospectus. I'm not clear what that is, exactly, but apparently, Prentice-Hall has a website to give you a good idea.
I know some of the books they published out of some of the dumbest professors at UC Davis, so I can't imagine that they wouldn't be interested in this.
I have to really consider that audience though. Who are you audience? Are you parents or teachers or student teachers or just exactly what?
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
I'm official slavegirl to the chair and to a couple other profs, so it's gonna be interesting. I am dying though because I got offered an independent study thing to help actual people, but I think I am going to refer to my friend, Silvia, and see if she'd like to do it.
Shhhhh, don't tell the politically correct police, but I really like working. It's nice to be with grownups. It's nice to miss my kids a little, too, instead of having them on my nerves, too.
Yesterday, between wearing a bra and moving around on campus a bunch, my rib was about killing me, but a night of vicodan helped that greatly. I didn't have to be to work today until 1. Also nice.
I also told friends about my enjoyment of the silence of the van. I drove home yesterday to pick up the kids and was really enjoying the silence of the van. I enjoyed not having to put music on for Genny. I enjoyed no bickering and I enjoyed the silence of all of it.
Shhhhh, don't tell the politically correct police, but I really like working. It's nice to be with grownups. It's nice to miss my kids a little, too, instead of having them on my nerves, too.
Yesterday, between wearing a bra and moving around on campus a bunch, my rib was about killing me, but a night of vicodan helped that greatly. I didn't have to be to work today until 1. Also nice.
I also told friends about my enjoyment of the silence of the van. I drove home yesterday to pick up the kids and was really enjoying the silence of the van. I enjoyed not having to put music on for Genny. I enjoyed no bickering and I enjoyed the silence of all of it.
Friday, August 15, 2003
Something somewhere is on fire because I've been smelling the smoke. As much as I am a tree-hugging candyassed liberal hippie momma, (Redneck Ruby is a ...say it with me now...misnomer), with my asthma as bad as it is, I wish everything would burn and go away right now, especially the rabbit brush which has been blooming and kicking my wheezing coughing allergic buttochs.
However, I do have a nearly complete kitchen. Mike finished the painting last night, so I just have to put everything in place and show you all the pix. I now must scour the dishes. I also am going to have to run out hastily dressed and pull out the trash to the curb because I can guarantee that Mike has not.
My really cool thing is that Mike and I are talking about how to use gray water recycling in the desert. We are talking about a storage tank and hooking it up to drip irrigate my future fruit trees. While I'd prefer organic, it would be even neater to conserve water around here. I'd rather water the garden and flush the john with gray water, thanks, than use my fresh drinking water which is such a valuable commodity in the desert. I also prefer using the clothesline when I can, compact flourescent bulbs, and stuff like that. Of course, when it comes to black widows and scorpions, I say, whip out the chrysanthemums and gimme my pyrethrines.
Today is my last day of full-time childcare of both my kids until a school vacation time. I should be politically correct and be waxing poetic about how I'll miss doing this, but mostly, I am absolutely ecstatic about the prospect of going to work and being intellectually challenged and being around my peers. And yes, I will miss this. I will miss having my morning cuddles with Genny and having Russell report his misadventures in the chicken coop. I will miss the quiet half and hour that I lay in my bed watching the sunrise before I doze back to sleep for a couple more hours. I will miss sleeping in til 9, or the occasionally delish 10 with the kids.
Russell is having a classic transitional morning. He's sobbing and whining about stupid shit and all I feel like doing is committing random acts of child abuse. I'm not, but I feel like it. Of course, he's been up an hour and he didn't bother to take his meds, so we're also waiting for his meds to kick in. I wish they'd kick him already because I'm sooooo there. He's so horrible when he's like this and I just have a picture of what the coming week before he starts school is going to be like and it's simply NOT PRETTY. In this case, it would be really awesome to be wrong about this, so after his meds kick in, he and I are going to have a little talk about what he can expect -- to the best of my ability. I won't know my schedule until I meet with my faculty members next Monday.
It would be really nice to have the option of dropping off/picking up Mr. Boy at school, so that I only need childcare the couple nights I have class and only for an hour or so until Mike gets there.
Yeah, I sent him across the way to feed the neighbor's horse and when he came back he found the thing he was frustrated about not finding and he was a different child. I just need more time in my life.
However, I do have a nearly complete kitchen. Mike finished the painting last night, so I just have to put everything in place and show you all the pix. I now must scour the dishes. I also am going to have to run out hastily dressed and pull out the trash to the curb because I can guarantee that Mike has not.
My really cool thing is that Mike and I are talking about how to use gray water recycling in the desert. We are talking about a storage tank and hooking it up to drip irrigate my future fruit trees. While I'd prefer organic, it would be even neater to conserve water around here. I'd rather water the garden and flush the john with gray water, thanks, than use my fresh drinking water which is such a valuable commodity in the desert. I also prefer using the clothesline when I can, compact flourescent bulbs, and stuff like that. Of course, when it comes to black widows and scorpions, I say, whip out the chrysanthemums and gimme my pyrethrines.
Today is my last day of full-time childcare of both my kids until a school vacation time. I should be politically correct and be waxing poetic about how I'll miss doing this, but mostly, I am absolutely ecstatic about the prospect of going to work and being intellectually challenged and being around my peers. And yes, I will miss this. I will miss having my morning cuddles with Genny and having Russell report his misadventures in the chicken coop. I will miss the quiet half and hour that I lay in my bed watching the sunrise before I doze back to sleep for a couple more hours. I will miss sleeping in til 9, or the occasionally delish 10 with the kids.
Russell is having a classic transitional morning. He's sobbing and whining about stupid shit and all I feel like doing is committing random acts of child abuse. I'm not, but I feel like it. Of course, he's been up an hour and he didn't bother to take his meds, so we're also waiting for his meds to kick in. I wish they'd kick him already because I'm sooooo there. He's so horrible when he's like this and I just have a picture of what the coming week before he starts school is going to be like and it's simply NOT PRETTY. In this case, it would be really awesome to be wrong about this, so after his meds kick in, he and I are going to have a little talk about what he can expect -- to the best of my ability. I won't know my schedule until I meet with my faculty members next Monday.
It would be really nice to have the option of dropping off/picking up Mr. Boy at school, so that I only need childcare the couple nights I have class and only for an hour or so until Mike gets there.
Yeah, I sent him across the way to feed the neighbor's horse and when he came back he found the thing he was frustrated about not finding and he was a different child. I just need more time in my life.
Tuesday, August 12, 2003
My home town has been victim to some of the worst thunderstorms and flash flooding in the country. It just got called a disaster area by the State of NH.
When my brother and I were young, we used to climb this 200 year old maple tree out back. Last week, a third of that tree shook loose in the thunderstorm, took out a power pole -- chopping it off 20 feet above the ground and missing the nearby barn, house, and cars. Adjacent to the back part of my parents' property, a teenager was swept through a culvert and survived. The main roads to the town are all washed out. There is one remaining road and it's for local necessary traffic -- in other words if the fire guys don't know you, you can't get through.
This morning, my town was on Good Morning, America and it wasn't a good thing.
When my brother and I were young, we used to climb this 200 year old maple tree out back. Last week, a third of that tree shook loose in the thunderstorm, took out a power pole -- chopping it off 20 feet above the ground and missing the nearby barn, house, and cars. Adjacent to the back part of my parents' property, a teenager was swept through a culvert and survived. The main roads to the town are all washed out. There is one remaining road and it's for local necessary traffic -- in other words if the fire guys don't know you, you can't get through.
This morning, my town was on Good Morning, America and it wasn't a good thing.
Saturday, August 09, 2003
My chickens finally laid their first eggs! I'm so proud of my girls! I had no idea how long they'd been festering in the henhouse, so I had to toss out my first three smallish brown-shelled eggs, but you can betcha, I'll be out there tomorrow, looking for my first edible eggs and I'll be planning quiches and omelets and all kinds of beautiful things.
Once we get back from a birthday party tomorrow, we're going to finish up painting the kitchen and then we're going to fence the garden off from the chickens and let them out in the yard during the day to peck and play. The second you leave that coop door open, they're all flowing out their henhouse -- a river of clucking and ruffling feathers pecking at every little thing they find, so I think it's time.
It was weird, I realized tonight, I probably haven't been out there in a month and a half, but I've been busy and broken. It was really cool to find that they've started to lay eggs. I had Mike lay out straw in each of their boxes and we cleaned out all the old lumber and made sure they had water and lots of grain and they were just so damned cute and bokbok. I tossed in some weeds for them to peck at, which they appreciated. I was struck by the fact that they've all gotten so large and matronly and Rupert is such a little rooster, I keep wondering if he's up to keeping the girls amused. He's so much smaller than they are and I keep thinking -- you know the way you do if it's a boy beagle and a female St Bernard,"Can he reach?"
Only time will tell, I s'pose.
Once we get back from a birthday party tomorrow, we're going to finish up painting the kitchen and then we're going to fence the garden off from the chickens and let them out in the yard during the day to peck and play. The second you leave that coop door open, they're all flowing out their henhouse -- a river of clucking and ruffling feathers pecking at every little thing they find, so I think it's time.
It was weird, I realized tonight, I probably haven't been out there in a month and a half, but I've been busy and broken. It was really cool to find that they've started to lay eggs. I had Mike lay out straw in each of their boxes and we cleaned out all the old lumber and made sure they had water and lots of grain and they were just so damned cute and bokbok. I tossed in some weeds for them to peck at, which they appreciated. I was struck by the fact that they've all gotten so large and matronly and Rupert is such a little rooster, I keep wondering if he's up to keeping the girls amused. He's so much smaller than they are and I keep thinking -- you know the way you do if it's a boy beagle and a female St Bernard,"Can he reach?"
Only time will tell, I s'pose.
Friday, August 08, 2003
My chickens finally laid their first eggs! I'm so proud of my girls! I had no idea how long they'd been festering in the henhouse, so I had to toss out my first three smallish brown-shelled eggs, but you can betcha, I'll be out there tomorrow, looking for my first edible eggs and I'll be planning quiches and omelets and all kinds of beautiful things.
Once we get back from a birthday party tomorrow, we're going to finish up painting the kitchen and then we're going to fence the garden off from the chickens and let them out in the yard during the day to peck and play. The second you leave that coop door open, they're all flowing out their henhouse -- a river of clucking and ruffling feathers pecking at every little thing they find, so I think it's time.
It was weird, I realized tonight, I probably haven't been out there in a month and a half, but I've been busy and broken. It was really cool to find that they've started to lay eggs. I had Mike lay out straw in each of their boxes and we cleaned out all the old lumber and made sure they had water and lots of grain and they were just so damned cute and bokbok. I tossed in some weeds for them to peck at, which they appreciated. I was struck by the fact that they've all gotten so large and matronly and Rupert is such a little rooster, I keep wondering if he's up to keeping the girls amused. He's so much smaller than they are and I keep thinking -- you know the way you do if it's a boy beagle and a female St Bernard,"Can he reach?"
Only time will tell, I s'pose.
Once we get back from a birthday party tomorrow, we're going to finish up painting the kitchen and then we're going to fence the garden off from the chickens and let them out in the yard during the day to peck and play. The second you leave that coop door open, they're all flowing out their henhouse -- a river of clucking and ruffling feathers pecking at every little thing they find, so I think it's time.
It was weird, I realized tonight, I probably haven't been out there in a month and a half, but I've been busy and broken. It was really cool to find that they've started to lay eggs. I had Mike lay out straw in each of their boxes and we cleaned out all the old lumber and made sure they had water and lots of grain and they were just so damned cute and bokbok. I tossed in some weeds for them to peck at, which they appreciated. I was struck by the fact that they've all gotten so large and matronly and Rupert is such a little rooster, I keep wondering if he's up to keeping the girls amused. He's so much smaller than they are and I keep thinking -- you know the way you do if it's a boy beagle and a female St Bernard,"Can he reach?"
Only time will tell, I s'pose.
Thursday, August 07, 2003
Okay, so doing all that stuff, yesterday? Yeah, I'm paying the price today.
In my defense, it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it would have a week ago. I have to flip those stupid boards though and paint the bottoms. I just can't bring myself to put my beautifully cracklepainted shelving up if I haven't got some paint on the bottom. (Why not paint on the bottom? Heck, I've got paint everywhere else.)
It didn't help that my husband was in a snotty mood and said things like,"Why don't you get off your ass and do A?" I have been feeling guilty about not doing everything lickety-split with the busted rib, so I mopped the floor, I reorganized the pantry shelf, sewed curtains, and unpacked a box of dishes, when I should have said,"You're only working about 15 minutes of overtime nightly, why don't you give me a fucking break, butthead?" I let him know that this morning however, when he thought he'd snuggle up and get friendly about how I am watching his kids from the crack of dawn and entertaining them, making him dinner on a nightly basis around his schedule, making sure he's got clean clothes, and keeping track of our website contract, not to mention the budget, the shopping, and taking care of the neighbor's horses. This doesn't include all the sewing I'm obligated to do between now and when hell freezes over, either. Yeesh.
You know how much fun it is to watch a 6'7" man backpedal on a unicycle? It was kind of like that. I'm still ticked at him, so I think I'll get him to do the damned pots and put down a base coat tonight on the rest of the kitchen.
Yes, Dorothy, I am a Wicked Witch and I don't melt in water, honey, as one can see from my dishpan hands.
In my defense, it doesn't hurt nearly as bad as it would have a week ago. I have to flip those stupid boards though and paint the bottoms. I just can't bring myself to put my beautifully cracklepainted shelving up if I haven't got some paint on the bottom. (Why not paint on the bottom? Heck, I've got paint everywhere else.)
It didn't help that my husband was in a snotty mood and said things like,"Why don't you get off your ass and do A?" I have been feeling guilty about not doing everything lickety-split with the busted rib, so I mopped the floor, I reorganized the pantry shelf, sewed curtains, and unpacked a box of dishes, when I should have said,"You're only working about 15 minutes of overtime nightly, why don't you give me a fucking break, butthead?" I let him know that this morning however, when he thought he'd snuggle up and get friendly about how I am watching his kids from the crack of dawn and entertaining them, making him dinner on a nightly basis around his schedule, making sure he's got clean clothes, and keeping track of our website contract, not to mention the budget, the shopping, and taking care of the neighbor's horses. This doesn't include all the sewing I'm obligated to do between now and when hell freezes over, either. Yeesh.
You know how much fun it is to watch a 6'7" man backpedal on a unicycle? It was kind of like that. I'm still ticked at him, so I think I'll get him to do the damned pots and put down a base coat tonight on the rest of the kitchen.
Yes, Dorothy, I am a Wicked Witch and I don't melt in water, honey, as one can see from my dishpan hands.
Okay, it's official. I love what I am doing with my kitchen. It's gorgeous. We only have one half of it done, but I redid the curtains in a super fantastic way. I didn't want to totally ditch the old curtains because they're heavy and heavy is good in a place with such extreme temperature changes, but I wanted to spruce them up, so I'm stitched my jalapeno pepper fabric over the old ones like an overlay until we rip out the slider and replace it with french doors w/vent windows. Then, I may or may not use my jalapeno fabric on those. The view here is nice enough to not want to spoil it, but I also like to hide my sex life from the coyotes. Our neighbors might be able to get a view, but they'd probably have to have binoculars and a real penchant for watching lily white butts.
I am now trying to figure out what colors to make shelves and cabinets and stuff, which is kind of the fluff painting but it all feels good. Last night, I stained the big curtain rod that goes over the kitchen slider and today I sprayed on a glossy overcoat. Today, I prepped and crackle painted the small corner shelving. I didn't have to, but it adds to the whole decor thing and this time, I used large gobs of crackle and the crackle looks incredible. The kitchen is starting to look like I could actually finish unpacking before I turn 40. Tonight, I found a box in the kitchen that was full of my dessert plates and the rest of my cereal bowls. I felt deliriously happy and in my delirium, I then chose to mop the floor, fill the dishwasher with my newly found dishes and scrub black chunks off the tall cooking pot I use for heating foods to be canned before I drop them into a 20 minute hot bath.
As soon as we get it done, I'll post pictures. In the interim, you'll have to be stuck with the unshakeable and nauseating mind image of my lily white butt in a pair of some poor (now blind) coyote's binoculars.
I am now trying to figure out what colors to make shelves and cabinets and stuff, which is kind of the fluff painting but it all feels good. Last night, I stained the big curtain rod that goes over the kitchen slider and today I sprayed on a glossy overcoat. Today, I prepped and crackle painted the small corner shelving. I didn't have to, but it adds to the whole decor thing and this time, I used large gobs of crackle and the crackle looks incredible. The kitchen is starting to look like I could actually finish unpacking before I turn 40. Tonight, I found a box in the kitchen that was full of my dessert plates and the rest of my cereal bowls. I felt deliriously happy and in my delirium, I then chose to mop the floor, fill the dishwasher with my newly found dishes and scrub black chunks off the tall cooking pot I use for heating foods to be canned before I drop them into a 20 minute hot bath.
As soon as we get it done, I'll post pictures. In the interim, you'll have to be stuck with the unshakeable and nauseating mind image of my lily white butt in a pair of some poor (now blind) coyote's binoculars.
Wednesday, August 06, 2003
My rib is beginning to heal. I'm sure the fact that my husband painted half the kitchen for me has a great deal to do with how fast I am healing. It helps additionally, that the kitchen looks fantabulous.
We've had some really weird weather of late. Usually, this time of the year in the desert is dryer than diabetic skin in winter, but we've had a lot of rain and that is making everything bloom at an odd time and my allergies are kicking up. Unfortunately, my asthma is kicking in, which means I'm coughing and hugging a pillow a lot.
I've got a lot of sewing done, in the works, etc. I expect to be sewing straight through Christmas. I've made two baby blankets (one is just tied and the other is just a sewn receiving blanket, I've got another one I'm quilting, I've got another I've got to piece and quilt and it gets uglier and uglier. I realized that I could actually make a cuddling blanket for someone, so I have to make that, too. My friend is having a boy in a month and a half, so I've got to go find boy clothes for her.
I should talk about A and what happened, but I'm so hurt right now, that I can't. I just won't be talking to her mom any time soon. Her mom is irresponsible and I can't hardly stand to watch. I don't understand people who do things to hurt their kids and then stand around and justify it. Leave it at that.
We've had some really weird weather of late. Usually, this time of the year in the desert is dryer than diabetic skin in winter, but we've had a lot of rain and that is making everything bloom at an odd time and my allergies are kicking up. Unfortunately, my asthma is kicking in, which means I'm coughing and hugging a pillow a lot.
I've got a lot of sewing done, in the works, etc. I expect to be sewing straight through Christmas. I've made two baby blankets (one is just tied and the other is just a sewn receiving blanket, I've got another one I'm quilting, I've got another I've got to piece and quilt and it gets uglier and uglier. I realized that I could actually make a cuddling blanket for someone, so I have to make that, too. My friend is having a boy in a month and a half, so I've got to go find boy clothes for her.
I should talk about A and what happened, but I'm so hurt right now, that I can't. I just won't be talking to her mom any time soon. Her mom is irresponsible and I can't hardly stand to watch. I don't understand people who do things to hurt their kids and then stand around and justify it. Leave it at that.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)