this is why I blog.....



The Dented Can in Wakarusa, Indiana

I'm sitting here watching the blinking cursor.  It's indicative in many ways of the way I'm feeling right now.  Feeling like life is an empty document - waiting to be filled with the words and paragraphs of my new life.

But that's not what tonight's blog is about.  Tonight's blog is about three of the most genuine, funny, talented, tough and tender hearted gals I've ever had the pleasure to keep company with.  It's going to be downright impossible to put my thoughts into any type of cohesive form - but we'll give it a go.

My pictures are all willy nilly and mixed up (much like my heart right now - but again - this isn't my whiny post about life's recent changes - you will have the pleasure of that drivel soon!)

Shannan of Flower Patch Farmgirl fame pulled into my driveway in early July of 2010 and pulled into my life and heart forever.  We'd been commenting back and forth on each other's blogs for about a year, and then started emailing, and the rest is history.  Going to her house felt like going home.  Visiting kinfolk.  She's just a seed spit away from me, and for this - I'm gladder than glad.  I'll be back there soon!  Cory is an absolute dream.  What a wonderful father.  It don't get no betta.  It was all I could do not to steal all of her children.  Calvin and Ruby entertained me to the moon and back.  Law have mercy - I could talk and sing with those kids forever.  Silas is even more beautiful in person than his photos let on. 
Her home is full of life and love.  She is who you think she is - and that my friends, is saying a lot.

 

Sign at the Flea Market in Springfield, Ohio



It was through Shannan's blog that I found sweet Jen of The Cottage Nest.  I won a giveaway on her blog with my first comment.  It was an instant connection between the two of us.  After meeting her in person, I know why.  She makes my teeth hurt - she's so sweet - and she's funny with a great wit about her.  I keep mentioning how beautiful she is too - it's the kind of beauty that is coming up from out of the well of her spirit.  Hearing her talk to her husband on the phone was so precious - you could just feel the love.

She's also a seed spit away, and we already have plans for an immediate visit.  I'll stroll The Village with her, and eat cupcakes and ride scooters.  We'll laugh and hug and share life stories.



Tag on Busy Bee Society Gifts

 It was through Jen that I found Teresa of Meadowbrook Farm fame.  I'm sure you had the same reaction to her blog as I did .  Her home is magazine worthy, her photography - life changing.  I didn't get to spend too much one on one time with her this trip - she stayed with Shannan and Jen since they are closer to one another and I'm a bit too far north to have made it work - but let me tell you this.  Teresa is the real McCoy.  There was such a clarity to her spirit.  I got the idea that she was a no nonsense kind of gal that could do anything she would set her mind on.  The kind of girl that would give good solid advice.  The kind of girl you could always count on.  She has some of the prettiest hair I ever did see, and I adored her clothes. Next time she's in the hood, she's stayin' here, up in the Squirrel.  I'm going to take her to the big city and to the National Lakeshore.  Can't. Wait.


Playing a prank on Teresa of Meadowbrook Farm

Over the past year - the four of us have become good friends via the Internet.  We've formed what we call the Busy Bee Society.  We chat back and forth, and support each other, and I feel incredibly blessed to be part of this group.  We are all in different stages of our lives, all so different, yet when blended together, we form a force to be reckoned with.
 

My Sweet Rubies

 If you would have told me when I started this blog - that I would be driving off one day to hang out with women I'd met up on the Internet - I wouldn't have believed you. 


Flower Patch Farmgirl Lane

 If you would have told me, when I posted that first post of my goofy Easter desserts that I felt the world needed to see - that my world would be changed by the kindness of strangers - leaving comments - supporting me - making me laugh - encouraging me - teaching me - I wouldn't have believed you.


Beautiful Jen of The Cottage Nest

If you would have told me that I'd be up in a hotel room making french toast, and sleeping at the Flower Patch Farmgirl's house - meeting a blogger from Montana - and loving every minute of it - I wouldn't have believed you.
 

My Dented Can Stash

 It's these beautiful recent turn of events that give me so much hope for the future.  So much hope for the things yet unknown, people yet unmet, places yet unvisited. 

Enjoy the rest of the photos - cause I'm just too filled up inside to type anymore.  To Shabby, Atresha and JenJen - thank you from the bottom of my bottomless heart for making room in your hearts for me.  I feel a lifetime friendship evolving with ya'll.  May we all end up at the same nursing home foreva!

To all of you wonderful gals out there that I haven't met yet - thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your comments.  They mean the world to me.  You mean the world to me.  This is why I blog -


Flea Market Shopping




Fabulous Old House Detail




Bread to pretty to eat




No caption needed!




Gifts I made for the gals




A sight you rarely see....



Lunch at the Bakehouse in Tipp City, Ohio



Left Behind - With Lemon Sugar Snap Cookies

This morning I awoke with a feeling of being left behind.

A dear friend is heading back home.

A young man is going to high school.

And here I am, in my little farmhouse, with the Italian Mobster roosters crowing, Phyllis clucking, and me, vacuuming.

Oh, don't get me wrong - it's all good.

It's all right, and the way life should be.

The reality of me with time on my hands is starting to sink in.

I like it.

I've always thought it easier to be the leaver instead of the leavee.

When you are the leaver, your mind is occupied with your trip ahead, you are busy thinking about all that needs to be done when you get home.

When you are the leavee - you are left with a bit of emptiness and forlornness that needs to be filled.

With Cookies.

Lemon Sugar Snaps

1 stick of soft butter

3/4 cup sugar

1 egg yolk

1 t lemon peel

1 T lemon extract

3/4 cup of flour

1/4 t salt

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.

Add egg yolk, zest and extract.

Mix well.

Add the flour and salt and blend on low speed until all ingredients are blended.

Place teaspoon size balls on baking sheets lined with parchment paper.

Bake until very lightly colored around the edges.

Cool five minutes on the sheet.

Eat.

I've not had luck doubling this recipe - it seems to lose 'something'.

A Pear Crumble -



Photo by Bryan S. Chen


I'm back from my great adventure!  Suffice it to say, I had an absolutely wonderful time.  Jen, Shannan and Teresa are three of the most interesting, beautiful, genuine gals that you'd ever want to meet!  I would love to show you some photos - but alas, I've left my camera up at the Flower Patch Farmgirl's house!  I know!  I'm at her mercy now.  I have my old camera charging up on the counter now. 

We all went to the Springfield, Ohio Flea Market Extravaganza.  I've never seen so much fabulous junk in one place.  I needed a tractor trailer to get everything home that I wanted.  So not fair.  So. not. fair.

Photo from Springfield Flea Market Website

Truth be told, I didn't take that many photos.  I felt that worrying about pics too much would interfere in the time we spent together.  We'd been planning this visit for several months and I wanted to savor every moment of it.  I think that I got at least one embarrassing photo of each of them - so my work was done.

Until I get my camera back - I thought I'd share this recipe with you!  (Yes, I know that you are still waiting for the Lemon Cookies and the Mac and Cheese! I totally promise to get them to you this week.  Totally.)

I only make this recipe a couple of times a year, and it's usually in the month of September, when I get a sack of pears from my friend's tree.  When pears are up in my house, I really know that the days are numbered to get out and enjoy the weather.  Realizing this - we spent the morning at the Uncle John's Flea Market in Cedar Lake.  I have to say I was more than disappointed.  All I brought home was a headache and sore throat from all the mildew up in those buildings.  Aye law - I shan't go back. 

Photo from June 2009 - before my sackcloth and ashes haircut

Today was a great day to shoot things.  Did you know my nickname is Dead Aim Jaym?  Whilst I love the idea of dressing all in camo, and hanging out in the woods in the wee hours waiting for turkeys to shoot at - I couldn't shoot them with anything but a camera.  I just want all the gear - and want to walk around looking like a hunter - but I really don't want to kill anything.  Too bad - I'm a good shot!

After an afternoon of shooting - there was nothing better to come in to than a bowlful of warm Pear Crumble.  This recipe is from EatingWell, and there's not a smidge of butter or bacon in it, and it's still delicious!

You'll find the recipe here.  Just a note - I didn't use pure maple syrup, but just used the 'fake' stuff.  I'm sure that this recipe is going to go into your 'favs' file!

Sleeping Like a Baby

Peace and order has been restored up in this house.

I'm happy to report that the baby bird has quit it's peepin'.

It reminded me a lot of growing up - sharing a bedroom with three sisters.

We'd be talking and giggling up a storm, and then out of nowhere my mother's silhouette would appear in the doorway.

"I don't want to hear another peep out of youns!"

I scoured NW Indiana for baby birds.

Nada.

One feed store will have some in three weeks.

I brought the baby out in the cage and put it by the other chickens.

They were mighty interested.

In hurting it.

Phyllis the ever broody banty (who just happens to be NOT right now) clucked in a way that gave me hope.

After all - with a name like Phyllis - you'd think you could count on her.

I don't know anyone named Phyllis, but if I did, I would imagine them to be prompt to Bunco, bearing an appetizer to share - the kind of gal with an always tidy hairdo and a clean toilet.

Well, Phyllis the chicken let me down ya'll.

I found some information online that suggested putting a mirror and a feather duster in the cage.

Worked like a charm.

The minute the mirror went in - poof, that baby be done got all quiet.

Then I started checking to make sure it wasn't dead.

It was that quiet.

We both slept like babies last night.

Amen.

In other news - Maude came home after being gone for two days with a shiner.

Her nest has been abandoned, and two eggs were broken, and other's moved about.

We aren't sure what happened, but we have put Maude in rehab.

She seems very repentant.  My heart aches for her.

I think the Italian Banty Mob knows something, but they aren't talkin'.

Thank you all for the great poison ivy advice.  The spot on my chin is the worst, my arms, belly and thigh isn't that bad.  Poison ivy is everywhere around here - I do believe it came in a load of mulch one year.  I pull it out with my bare hands and laugh at it.  Well - this time it got the last laugh.  I'm on the mend.  It wasn't bad.

A few of you had commented about me having a baby bird in my bra, and what about the poop?

Good question.

Lest you think I walk around with a poopy bra - I had to clear this up.  First of all - the danged bird was so traumatized that it wouldn't eat or drink.  I do believe it was just hours old when I snatched it.

However, I wrap it in a small, thin towel before I insert it betwixt me bosoms.  Otherwise, I would be freaking out.

And normally - I do not stay up all night holding a bird.  Usually when I have the baby

 birds up in the house, they are fine and content in their box, cause they have company.

In other other news - I'm leaving tomorrow morning on my great adventure,.

I don't mean to be all vague - but because my other friends have not yet shared on their blogs what's going on, I don't really want to let the cat out of the bag.
Not that there is a cat, or a bag, but I'ze just want to be polite.

I should be packing and getting ready to go - but here I sit, up on the internet.

I finally sewed my new pj pants today, but only have one slipper knitted up.  Gone be a long night.

I was hoping to respond to some of the newcomers here, and catch up on my emails - but ya'll don't want me only wearing one slipper do you?  I'll have to get to it when I come home.

If I weren't so busy trying to get out of town, I would have SO painted that birds toenails tonight.

And maybe fashioned a hat for it.

Maybe.



Sleeps With Chickens

Photo from Mother Earth News

That's my new Indian name.

Glen gave it to me at 3am this morning when he found me in my chair in the livingroom with a bra on, covered in poison ivy and sleeping with a baby chicken.

There is never a dull moment in this house.

I would love to show you some pictures, but I'm too tired to take them.  Sleeping with a day old chicken isn't easy.  I do remember a couple of dreams, so I know I slept some. The poor thing nearly chirped itself to death last night before I finally got up at 11 and consoled it. 

To clear up any confusion - Maude was sitting on 9 duck eggs, I suppose whilst she was away from her nest, a chicken happened upon it and decided to lay an egg herself.

Ergo - two chicken eggs be up in the nest, and one hatched.

I've spent the morning searching for more baby chickens.
Poultry Auction, Craig's List.

Maude is proving to be as unstable as a teenage brat star.  I don't know that I need to elaborate here and compound her shame.  She couldn't have mothered this chicken, as she kept leaving the nest and leaving it exposed to the three cats in the yard, and the other chickens, which have been known to be rather brutal to babies.  Law, I don't know if that bird be tippin' the bottle or doin' the crack.  Not sure which demon has her, but I'm thinking it's the demon liquor.

She's gone at the moment, and has been off the nest for more than an hour.  The nest isn't covered as it usually is when she's gone.  This doesn't bode well my friends.

I put the stuffed chicken that Cindy brought me in the cage with it - it seems to be soothing it, and breaking my heart at the same time.  I think I have no choice other than buy a small dog purse, paint it's toenails, buy that bird some bling and carry it everywhere I go.

And don't you think for a heartbeat I wouldn't.

Some 'Splainin to Do

Ya'll remember Maude and Claude (God rest his soul)?

Ya'll remember Maude's grieving and taking up with the cat?

Ya'll remember Maude's little video of her scurrying off somewhere up in a hurry?

Well - scandal ensues at The Coop.

Here's where she was scurrying to.

That bird be up on the nest.

Who's nest?

Maude's nest!

Mocha the Cat didn't take the news too good, and there was trouble in paradise as you can see here:

I feel a Jake and Vienna happenin' here.

Seems that Mocha barely had time to digest the news that Maude was up on the nest - no sooner than he'd made peace with the situation did this happen.

This was found in the nest with Maude today.

Buddy isn't sayin' a word.

Ooooooo girl, that bird got some 'splainin to do!  Mmmmhmmmm.

Riveting News

This morning I woke up feeling like the day was a brand new doll, still in it's box, with it's head wrapped in cellophane.

I so didn't want to mess it up.

So -

I'm dressed.

As in pants.

I'm not responsible for my hair at this moment, cause I have a hair appointment on Tuesday - so we'll address it then.

I bought gas today.

Filled the dang tank up.

$61.22

Spent about the same on a week's worth of groceries, that seemed to fit in three bags.

Clam juice is in my house.

The thought of it makes me gag. 

I have no idea why I put "Creole Fish" on the menu for the week, like I'm gonna eat that stuff!

Realized that I feel the need to explain some of my grocery purchases to the check-out girl.

I needed to make it known that the instant mashed potatoes were indeed for a bread recipe.

I worried about the dried milk as well - would she think I was REALLY going to drink it?

Once she scanned the Velveeta, I quit apologizing.

At least there was no Cool Whip in sight.

It's 4:30 up in the afternoon and my work for the day is done.

I've worked myself so silly this week that my right arm is rendered useless.

I'll spend the afternoon feverishly knitting slippers and sewing pajamas.

All in preparation for a very important event.

An event so earth shaking, the blog world will never be the same.

If you are a casual reader - make sure ya'll check back here next week.

And pray that I finish my pj's and knit TWO slippers.

For her sake.

An image I found too disturbing not to share whilst Googling for dolls in boxes.

I really have no words.

The Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous

I'm not getting such an early start today my friends.

It's up near 8am and I'm still un-coffeed and in my nightgown.

My housework is done, and I just finished my To Do List for the day.

It involves washing a lot of windows, and hopefully painting some.

Moisturizing.

Can you believe I had to put moisturizing on my list of things to do?

I'm losing a little weight, and my skin seems to be deflating.

It's painfully dry.

And wrinkly.

I also had to put 'get dressed' on my list.

Seriously?

Are you one of those fabulous women that just automatically get dressed in the morning?

I'm not.

I will seriously be in my nightgown and Life is Good hoodie all day unless I pass a mirror and realize I'm not dressed.

I will actually be out washing windows like this if I'm not careful.

Dressing, hair brushing - things like that just don't come natural to me anymore since I'm not out among the English much.

I'm slipping down a slippery slope into a world where I have to make notes to tell myself to dress and moisturize.
Good times.

A Psalm for Apples

Photo courtesy of Lost Forest After Dark

It's apple time up here in Northwest Indiana.

I can think of nothing finer.

The trees in the orchards are hanging low with the weight of the harvest.

My little gnarly apple tree produced well this year.

I call it my Tree of Good Intentions.

Every year I intend to prune it and spray it.

Every year I don't.

Every year I pull off enough gnarly apples to make a crisp and a pie or two.

This morning I got carried away with the splendor of life and baked this beauty.

She tastes as good as she looks.

A good crumb to fruit ratio is really important to me, as it is to you, I'm sure.

This crisp has a bottom layer of crumb.

Yes, you read that right.

It takes it to a 'ho notha level'


Whilst baking it, I vacuumed (of course I did) and drank in the breeze coming through the windows.
I noticed the changing shadows on the floor - it's getting late in the year. I cleaned the fridge out    and blessed the birds with a lot of treats - and the worms too.


I said a prayer for Aaron at school and Glenny at work.
I thanked God for my life.


As soon as it cooled enough, I took a bite.


I spontaneously burst into song, and then wrote this Psalm, in praise of the apple.

A Psalm written for the apple, by Jayme Goffin, Psalmist and Chicken Whisperer

                           
Praise ye the apple! Praise it on the tree, praise it in the hand.
   Praise ye the apple in the bowl, and in the oven too -
      For the Lord our God has created it, and it is good, real good.


  Blessed be it's crispness, blessed be it's bite - blessed be your tree, without blemish or blight.
Blessed be your family when ye shall make a crisp and serve it warm from the oven, they shall rise up and call you blessed!

We thank Thee for your goodness that you graced us with apples.

   Surely, brown sugar and cinnamon will follow me for all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the land of the orchard forever.

Apple Crisp

1 cup flour

3/4  cup oatmeal

1 cup brown sugar

1 t. cinnamon

1 stick of cold butter

Mix the above until well mixed and crumbly.  Press half of this mixture onto the bottom of a greased 8 x8 or 9 x9 pan.

Top with four cups of chopped apples.

In a small saucepan, combine one cup of sugar, 2 T cornstarch.  Mix.  Add one cup of water.  Bring to a boil and cook until it become clear-ish and thick.  Add 1 t. vanilla.

Pour this mixture over the apples, and top with the remaining oat/flour mixture.

Bake at 350 until it is brown and bubbly.

Look to the Bees

I spent part of my Labor Day weekend scrub brushing and power washing the garage.

Sadly, this made me incredibly happy.

Why is it when it's a gorgeous day outside, the first thing my mind goes to is "what a great day to work!"

My Aunt Gladys would be so proud of me. The cleanest woman that has ever lived.

She had a freezer in her garage just for garbage.

So it wouldn't smell by the time the garbage man came.

True story.

Whilst scrubbing this side of the garage, I decided to thin out my red daylilies and plant some all along here. Thought it would look so pretty against the white.

Then - I thought what a great place to line up my beehives.

I should have six by this time next year.

I can just picture the pretty hives all lined up with red daylilies among them.

Now, pay no attention to the fact that nearly a half a million bees would be a few steps away from you as you pulled in the driveway.

I personally don't see that as a problem.

The bees have me mesmerized, and scared fecal-less.

As I walk to what I call my 'BeeYard' which is nothing but a weedy patch with a few pumpkin vines growing and two hives, I repeat my mantra.

"It's just a slight burning sensation with some localized swelling"

"It's just a slight burning sensation with some localized swelling"

And then I give them a stern, yet loving admonishment that I'm there to help them.

I like to think that it's working.

Only two stings this year - so far.

Sadly it doesn't appear that I'll be harvesting any honey this year, unless I want to endanger the hive's starvation through the winter.

I just can't do that to the little things.

They've worked so hard for what they have.

It's my first year, I'm told not to be too surprised that there isn't any honey.

But, I must say - I am disappointed.

Do I have slacker bees?

Better than killer ones I suppose.

I thought alot about the bees while I was cleaning the garage and planning on how I would ask Glen if he minded several hundred thousand bees next to 'his' garage.

I like to think that I'm like a bee.

Busy - a bit ocd about the hive.

A good team worker.

Tireless in doing good.

Sweet.

It's things I try to be.

Oftentimes I scold myself for what I'm not.

I have friends that honest-to-Pete wanted to be nurses when they were young girls, and now, at nearly 60 years old - that is what they are, and have been since college.

I shake my head in wonderment.

Or friends that can decorate a room and leave it that way - like - forever.

Seriously.

I on the other hand still don't know what I want to do when I grow up.

See - it's the growing up part I guess I haven't gotten down yet.

I've never wanted to be the Queen Bee - I'm more than happy being a nurse bee, or a worker bee. I'm more than happy being a support to my friends and family. I'm more than happy to hopefully be a little sweetness in their lives.

I used to believe that God had a perfect plan for each of us, and I'm still not convinced that I don't believe it.

I always searched for mine.

Felt like I was missing it.

But I think I've been doing it all along.

Whether it's been homeschooling, or tending chickens, or working at Starbucks (a girl can dream) - I'm part of a colony of life - and I show up, and try to do my part, and laugh and love.

I can't think of a better vocation.

Breaking News From Up in My Chair

This just in.

And I do mean just in.

Or really, just out.

Of the oven.

At almost 9pm in the night.

My day's been a bit cattywompus.

I may or may have not been up til 3am making wedding photo collages.

On my new laptop!

I apologize for spending the money - I do. I don't know why I do, but I do.

I really needed a new computer. What took an hour Friday night on Picnik takes three minutes now.

Do you have any idea how fast blogging is now?

I'll be letting you know every time I burp or trim my nails now.

Seriously.

I ended up sleeping in til 9 o'clock up in the morning today.

The chickens were furious.

The Italian Banty Mob let me know in no uncertain terms.

I'm scared.

The duck - well - see for yourself.

Where was she scurrying off to?

I will let you know how the new Pasta with Italian Sausage and Beans is just as soon as I get hungry and can eat some.

I am not staying up late tonight. No, I'm not.

Seriously.

I'm up in my chair.

My cozy chair, with my feet up on ottoman, in the living room.

Glenco is watching VH1 Classic Greatest 1 Hit Wonders of 1980.

And that's the latest from the Coop ....stay tuned.

I need to know what you think of the new blog format-?

I'm going to be changing the banner as soon as I get around to it too.

Cherry Vanilla Muffins

Ok, I know what you are thinking - I'm posting a lot. Bear with me. The house is still in semi-shambles. Bikes still up in the kitchen. I've been sitting here with Picnik editing photos and pulling my hair out. I'm a minute away from buying a new computer. A girl can only take what a girl can take. I'm working on the wedding photos that Aaron took. Each picture is taking nearly an hour to edit, because the computer isn't responding. Deborah, I do need alcohol!

I've made a big decision today - I'd been trying to decide if I should quit blogging or not. I've decided not to. Not to quit that is - so - I'll be around here - but I am going to revamp the blog.

I think I'm just going to post recipes here for a few days until I get the re-do done. I'll start with the Cherry Muffins, then I'll give you a few of my favorites, including the mac and cheese and Lemon Butter Snaps. K? Does this sound ok? Thanks for sticking with my as I go through the change.

Speaking of the change - I haven't had but one or two more hot flashes. One felt like my scalp was being over processed by perm solution. An odd sensation indeed.

Before I share the recipe, let's talk about muffins a little. I'm assuming that you bake, and maybe know these tips. If you do, scroll on down to the recipe, if not, read this, it will really help.

Don't even think about using an electric appliance anywhere near your muffins. You really want to do it all by hand. You aren't making cake, you are making muffins. You don't want to incorporate a lot of air into the batter. I actually imagine that it is some nuclear mixture that will explode unless I treat it with the utmost care. I kid you not. I mix it so gently, barely getting it mixed at all.

You should also have an oven thermometer and make sure that your oven is correct. Disasters may ensue if you think you are baking at 350, and your oven is really at 400.

I like using an ice cream scoop to insure that my muffins are uniform. I also do not like using cupcake liners on muffins. It's just my preference, but I like having a nice browned crust on my muffins.

Without further adieu, the recipe. If you don't have access to cherries, try looking in the freezer section. I think they sell sour cherries there.

This recipe is from an old friend, Debbie C. She once gifted me a small stack of handwritten recipe cards tied with a bow. I still remember it as one of my favorite gifts.

Cherry Vanilla Muffins

Makes 12.

Preheat oven to 400.

2 1 /4 cups of flour

4 t. baking powder

1/2 t salt

3/4 cup of sugar

2 cups of sour cherries

1 egg, beaten

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1 c. of milk ( I prefer using 1/2 cup regular milk, and 1/2 cup buttermilk)

1 T vanilla

Sift your dry ingredients together, mix in your cherries. Set aside.

Mix your wet ingredients together.

Mix the wet and dry together GENTLY! Remember the nuclear theory!

Bake about 12 minutes (longer, if you've used frozen cherries). Again, I just look and can tell when the muffins are done. Look for a golden brown muffin, that seems a bit firm when poked.

Cool, and glaze with a mixture of powdered sugar, milk and vanilla. I don't have a recipe for that, I just plop about a cup of powdered sugar in a bowl, add about a teaspoon of vanilla, and then enough milk to make a drizzle - fo - schnizzle.

What Happens When There's Time On My Hands

Let me just tell you that the romance between the cat and duck isn't cooling off.

Oh, they try to act all nonchalant and stuff.

It's just so obvious.

Maude hasn't even checked her email.

Today, a lovely, wisheverydaycouldbelikethis kinda day -

big plans.

Then - I saw a lot of cobwebs on the front porch.

I planned on just doing a quick job, going over things.

Then.

Well.

Then I didn't like how the furniture is too close to the color of the walls.

And then I didn't like anything.

And then I tore the whole room apart.

I didn't like how the dollhouse blocked the windows anymore.

I miss the rug that I put in the office.

Then I started digging in the room of merchandise.

Things I've bought, and no longer know what to do with.

Pictures, lamps, do dads.

And now I've just got one big mess on my hands.

And I just want to drive to the Tastee Top and come home and find everything back in place.

Glenny's not being a lick of help.

Said it was all fine to start with.

And then I moved this curb side dresser into the office, changing everything all up.

Glenny won't give me his opinion cause he said I'll change it all again in a few months.

My bikes were on the front porch.

They don't belong there.

They are much better in the kitchen don't you think?

So - a few hours ago - I had a perfectly fine - clean house - and a few cobwebs on the porch.

Now - my kitchen, office and front porch are a mess.

And I still have a wheelbarrow of weeds in my front yard.

Seems I can't finish anything these days.

His fault.