Why, yes! I HAVE started seeds for my garden.


Here are some of the Nicotiana seeds I have started. Given the dismal showing of last year, I decided to start early.

 I have also started some digitalis, both purple and white, a couple balloon flowers and several Easter Egg plants.  I need to start more Nicotiana soon as well as pretty much everything else. I WILL have a successful year this year.


Yay for ME!


I get to be the best woman for My Brother the Trumpeting Sailor when he marries Rachel the Singing Sailor in July!  Hooray!!!

Damned Foreigners

So yesterday the PNW (Pacific Northwest) got dumped on with some lovely snow that they didn’t see fit to share with us here in the southern mid-west.  This is Point One.

Point Two is: I know many people in various stages of citizenship-ness. One of these people, from Guatemala, is married to a LOVELY friend of mine and is therefore also a friend of mine since any husband of my friend is also my friend.

How do these relate?  Well, yesterday said friend’s husband walked SEVERAL MILES in the snow UP HILLS (but hopefully not barefoot) to get to work after he had to abandon his car due to the roads being clogged/an accident ahead/some such general nonsense.  Now, how many people do you know that would do that?  Not me. No, I sure would not. I would either a) turn the car around and go home, b) call someone to come get me and c) call in to work.  That man is a dedicated individual and I for one am proud that he has chosen to grace the U.S. with his presence and his work ethic EVEN THOUGH, as some people would think, he is a ‘foreigner’.

Hats off to Cesar. He is, indeed, the man.

Speaking of not sleeping

So last week? When Miles slept from 8 to 5 two nights in a row?  That was great, right?  Except I wish he hadn’t because I’ve been trying to get him to do the same thing since then and…it’s not really working.  He’s back to his 2 a.m./5 a.m./8 a.m. thing.

This makes me sad.

And!  Today?  He woke up an hour too early; he got up at 7. So then he took his nap from 9 to 10. And then? He was awake until 3 p.m. with a 10 minute nap at noon.

The kid is insane.  He wasn’t crying or anything. In fact, he was perfectly content just sitting in the carrier helping me eat my lunch and read my book and listen to some Ella.

He just now went to sleep for his nap.  How much you want to bet it’s one of his famous 40 minuters?

My basement

My basement is turning into a bit of a warren.  I know that you will be shocked beyond belief to hear that I am, indeed, a bit of a packrat wont to save many items that probably I shouldn’t. BUT!  The problem is that as soon as you get rid of something, you find that you wish you hadn’t.  You JUST NEVER KNOW when you might need that extra bit of clothesline or when you might finally decide to again wear that XXL Taylor logo sweatshirt that you bought when you wore XXL clothes because it was THE THING TO DO all those many a few years ago.  In fact, only last week I rescued a carpet remnant that I had finally thrown away after MONTHS and used it to balance some furniture. So. See?

Anyway. Basement. Yes.  Full of boxes.  Just boxes. They are empty. They do not, for the most part, contain things.  They just sit there, at the ready, for the moment when we are going to move again.

Because you see, I have been conditioned, programed by all that moving that I did for all those 10 years of married life before, long ago, those distant, house-free, baby-free, care-free years.  And so I collect boxes in my basement. Just in case.  In fact, of course we will move again someday. That is a given, I am sure. Why I need to save empty boxes from my last move and from EVERY SINGLE BLESSED TIME I BUY SOMETHING THAT COMES IN A BOX in my basement for some future, undisclosed time when we will move again when I could probably recycle them and get more  when I need them I do not know. 

It is my weakness, my collecting of boxes, and I thought you should just know so that, if you ever come to my house, and I don’t invited you down to my basement, you will know the reason why: the basement runneth over with empty cardboard boxes.

No Lie



Under the assumption that one is NEVER too young to learn financial responsibility, I opened a savings account for the Young Master today.

You may feel free to make donations at any point from now on. Wire transfers are also acceptable however if you would prefer, you can just make the check out to ME and I will make sure he gets it.

This has been a public service announcement.

P.S.  Seeing how you all think we are crazy anal about money already (which, by the way, you are right, you know), I would like to just let you know that this savings account was motivated by the check that one of the SmallSon’s aunts sent him for Christmas in his name. So it seemed appropriate to save it just for him.  Ok. I know you still think we are nuts. *sigh*

Prozac Kitty


Sweetie cycles through phases in which she licks her back to a greater or lesser extent. She is a very nervous cat and I suppose that that is understandable given her near-death experience.  However, it creates lots of hairballs and looks AWFUL. If I wanted a hairless cat (which I DO NOT), I would get a hairless cat. I prefer my kitties with hair, however and while I am sure hairless cats also deserve love, I am astonished at those who own them.

So.  After the Vet Who Comes to Your House came to our house and shot the kitties full of their necessary vaccines he also sent our way a nice package of amitriptyline for cats.  Of course, it must taste bad because she won’t take it either in tuna or dissolved in milk thereby forcing us to force it down her throat. She’s kind of dumb, did I mention?  We are all waiting to see if this delightful tricyclic antidepressant will perk our little Sweetie’s coat up. It would be nice if it made her nice to Ollie, too, but somehow I think that nothing will teach her to be nice to Ollie.  Because, yeah, dumb.

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