Sceens from a boring life

...The return to Office Life has been complete -- and utterly boring. In three days I've taken 1 phone

call, and tidied up 18 hold overs from the night before. I don't mind those, since I'm covering something for the Boss, and most are so poorly handled it's like a Mystery trying to decipher what was intended. I don't know if the hiring requirements have changed any since I signed on, but I can tell you the people recently on-boarded have no future.

...I've knit another string bad and dishcloth, with another string bag half finished since Tuesday. I got very little accomplished during my two days off, other than a couple trips to Safeway and the Dollar Tree. Those were for essentials. I'd like to be able to spend some time leisurely slumped over a cart at Goodwill, but I don't need anything, want for very little, and have no intention of picking up an illness from some dumb schlub who can't be bothered to mask up or stay 6 feet from me. The biggest thing is I  Miss People. My parents and siblings. I miss chatting over a ball of yarn in the craft store, or helping a sweet old man find Pet Milk for his wife. I miss waving to babies in grocery carts, and soaking up WiFi and Diet Coke from a fountain. I miss my life.

...So, I'm going to try to keep from losing my shit.

...Last week's episode of Live from Daryl's House featured Grace Potter & the Nocturnal's. Lemme ask you -- where has this band been? Holy cow this chick is good! Like Melissa Etheridge/Sheryl Crow/bad ass girl guitar good.

(And she's got amazing legs.) Do yourself a favor and look her up. If I were only 20 (thirty) years younger I'd be out there covering her work.

...This is, if I weren't on the Mrs/Mommy Track that was my life.
...Damn.

Feel the Burn........

...I've been in the office two days, and I can honestly tell you that watching paint dry is more intense.

...I'm a mushroom -- on an island -- all by my lonesome on this side of the room.

...It's been so quiet between the two projects that I could hear the Zoom Call, through the door, on the opposite side of the room. I've heard the ice drop in the break room and I further away now.

...I've sat and actually watched the clock, begging for it to change.

...If I fall asleep, it's not for lack of trying not to.

...I've read the news. I've bothered Ravelry enough that I'm pretty certain they aren't updating just to irritate me. I've knit half of another string bag, starting an hour after I'd arrived. And no one cares.

...Sunday was Mother's Day. With the Covid I'm not wandering out to restaurants just yet. People are crazy! Katie helped pack up my computer, and I met the Boss to get swapped out and ready to go for Monday morning. Afterward we hit Walgreen's, where the Tahoe decided not to turn over. There's a problem with The Red Wire that gives me great pause in my travel plans about every six months, and Sunday was the day. With the 'Hoe on the go once more, we picked up a treat from Taco Bell.

...Wait, you ate at Taco Bell you're saying to yourself? Well, see, they had something that interested me. It's the Taco Bell Taco Bar (or something like that) and I threw caution (and Katie's dinner) to the wind. In theory it should have been a whole lot of food, since they suggest it will feed "up to 6 people," provided 2 of them only eat lettuce. What it is is a whole lot of packaging containers. We had enough for dinner that night, a couple meals on Monday and I finished off the crumbs for lunch today, but that wasn't much. If they think this is going to work, they need to rethink it. Take it from me, it's a hard pass.

...I'm looking forward to "my" weekend -- Wednesday and Thursday being off. I don't really have anything planned, but being in charge of myself and not having to put makeup on is attractive, even if I'm not.

Begging Your Pardon

... I was going to tell you a story about someone that, well, there is no getting around, but I'm going to interrupt your usual viewing pleasure to talk about something else.

...As you know, the Covid continues. We are hopeful that there is an end in site (but that's highly debated) as many of These United States are bowing to pressure opening different venues and opportunities with the intention of saving some or all businesses. That's a huge dream right there, as  realizing that a half empty restaurant isn't enough to run in the best of times; these worst of times will put a nail in their coffins. I may  never have worked in food service (much less owned a restaurant), but I do read and I can do plausible math. Good intentions are the paving stone to Hell and it doesn't take a genius to see what's on the horizon.

...Another thing that continues is the Family Zoom Meeting. We moved on to Fridays to accommodate as many as possible -- and probably because some end up a little over served and the mornings after are less of a burden if it's a Saturday. I'm sticking to Diet Coke but feel free to serve yourself.


...Our Meeting beings well enough: hello, how was your day, whatcha drinking? We check in on everyone, find out what's new, and what everyone is eating either at the time or later on. Some of us munch while others have something more substantial planned. My sister Diane does what she can while cracking the whip on her subordinates and children from home -- God Bless Her (it could easily develop into a murder/suicide in the wrong hands but justifiably so). Careers are taking different directions and kids are changing so nothing is static. And then we get to things of a slightly political nature.

...My parents were your typical John Kennedy Democrats when I was a kid. The name of Richard Nixon was on the same level as curse words and nearly forbidden in our gentile Catholic home. Well, as politics evolved, people aged (and maybe more telling, incomes increased) affiliations changed. By the time I was old enough to register and vote I was a proud card carrying Republican, as were my parents. (Rush Limbaugh used to say by current standards JFK would be a Republican -- things have changed so much). Fast forward to 2020 and most -- if not all of my sibs are card carrying NRA members of the GOP (and even if they've married from the other side of the aisle we still love them).



...One of the topics broached was about the Vaccine du Covid -- will you take it in Round 1?
...I think the polling results were pretty well split. My Mom was quick to point out she's lived through Polio and the miracle that was the Salk vaccine (and Grandma's tuberculosis). Someone mentioned she may have lived thru the Spanish Flu, and they are very lucky there's no  throw a shoe option in Zoom (Mark!).


...For me and mine, the answer is a clear NO.
We had a wonderful Family Doctor that couldn't be swayed by Pharma Reps, Insurance Folks or Helicopter Parents when it came to newly auditioned injections or ingestions and he helped shape how I look at medicines. You wouldn't buy a test version of Windows, would you? How about a beta Tesla? No? Then why would you knowingly allow them to put something into your temple that "might" work -- on a virus, for which we treat the symptoms but cannot eliminate? For fucks sake -- if we could cure the Common Cold or Ebola, wouldn't we have by now (not for lack of trying)? Oh sure, we vaccinate against Herpes and Measles. So hmm, why not everything virulent? I don't know -- my college days were devoted to History, not Medicine, so that's best left to someone in the know.

...But getting to what set me off and for which I struggled to vocalize -- the mass wearing of masks in public. There are a handful of counties that have made it mandatory, not just food handlers, and it's making the My Rights nutjobs crazy. Including some of my family members. Ironically, if they had actually listened to what I could put into words, I would hope to have changed their view. So here goes:

I wear for those I love. 
For my brother and father with Kidney Disease, Gout and Diabetes, and the brother that donated his kidney and daily puts his life on the line in the Corrections System (he doesn't need something more).
I wear for my Sister In Law with MS, and the two that have survived Breast Cancer.
I wear for those with children at home.
I wear for those who are still able to work and provide for their family.
I wear for our Mom, so that she has many more Mother's Days to celebrate.
I wear for my sister for whom a coughing fit could tear her in a million pieces -- or kill her.
I wear for my BIL who takes care of my sister when she's ill or recouping from surgery or his own serious past health condition.
I wear for a brother that has already had a heart attack scare.
I wear for my brother who's survived Cancer twice, and many, many problems as a result.
I wear for my baby brother, that finally has his shit together and could use a break.
I wear for our youngest sister who has become, of all things, a Master Juggler of home, work, kids and step kids and the Court System, and her Sainted Husband.
I wear for the many nieces and nephews I've been blessed with, and my own grown children.
I wear for the friends that are pregnant, recovering from childbirth, and those that are caring for delicate newborns.
I wear so that if I am an asymptomatic carrier (I don't know this to be true, but I'm not buying the tracking for sake of illness they are peddling) that others don't contract this hideous illness, miss work, infect others or God Forbid have to stand by while someone else is sick or dies.

I wear so that all are untouched, like the Israelite's who anointed their doors with lambs blood to avoid the Angel of  Death (Exodus 12:23).

I wear for those I love. 

...I say this a second time because wearing a mask isn't about submission or overreaching government control. It's not about Socialism (or any other -ism). It isn't about being a registered Republican or Democrat. It isn't about who's slippers are in the Master Suite of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.  What it is about -- much like the only true Birth Control is abstinence -- is doing what we can to not get or give the Corona Virus. 

...If you're going to be selfish, error on the side of others. Wear the mask.

...It may not be your life you  care about  save. It could be someone more important (to you).

Pondering In The Rockies

...And so it goes.

...I turned off the heat in the house on the twenty-something of April, just before turning the calendar for May. I was done (so done) paying the Utilities Company and we'd had enough fair days that windows had been opened to allow the interior warmth to release. A cold front blew in over night, and other than a tremendous amount of wind the cool made for good sleeping. I was maybe 67 in the living room this morning as I readied for another workweek. In my lower level office I've got on a sweater, a fleece blanket and a shawl over my shoulders to chase the chill. There's a reason we Long Termers will snicker at those transplants who garden pre-Mother's Day; there's still time for frost and snow and all manner of flower killing if you put anything in the ground before paying homage to your mother. It's been dry -- drier than most years, so people are anguishing over large expanses of winter kill in their yard (welcome to Colorado, where the forcast is made up and no one uses their blinkers. Check your common sense at the border). We will be water rationing even though our storage is said to be  3 years' worth. The greater Northeast is anticipating a major storm with ridiculous amounts of snow and rain this weekend, further dampening what should be a glorious Mother's Day.

...Can we talk Mother's Day? Just how do you celebrate while maintaining social distancing? Restaurants, if they dare set up for service, will be as few and far between as the seating regulations. I suppose you could have shopped the major online husksters, but you can't exactly plan on a timely delivery so good luck with that.  We don't really do much, except I'll see Sean when he picks up Katie for a timely drive-by of a Sweet 16 in the family. Normally I wouldn't really do much, but these are trying times. Trying to make sense of 16 seems impossible to this veteran -- so I can't imagine how it feels for the Birthday girl.
A local florist is making hay with an avalanche of orders that they are cautioning not to be picky. Just set a dollar amount and maybe a color preference, and just be happy that they've got something that will be sent with notification prior to arrival (where's the fun in that?).

...During our time in isolation I've tried to remain true to the guidelines, going out only for the essentials and masked to protect not me, but those around me. I've run around with a bandanna mask from the get-go, but it triggers my claustrophobia and I hyper ventilate. And don't get me started on mask shaming and the idiots behind the pushing some really radical political views. Yesterday, my "Sunday" I'd been tempted to stray, and stray I did. I'd blame Katie, since she's suffering too, but I'm (as the Hubster was fond of saying) free, white and over 21 (I know, so politically devoid of correctness) so we made our way to the Westside. There's a little storefront that's only just reopened this week, strictly adhering to the CDC guidelines and we felt pretty good that a 2:30 pm run thru would be pretty safe. I mean, no one is really out there on a Thursday afternoon, right? I didn't really need anything. But there was this undeniable yearning to GTFO of the house, away from the internet and TV; a chance at sunshine and fresh air and a touch of something normal.

...Well, strike that word from Webster's because I don't know if it still exists. People were everywhere, practicing their stupid human driving techniques. Parking was hazardous;  it was Big Cars/Tiny Penis Day at the next door tattoo shop. My little nugget, a place that takes donated craft and all sorts of menagerie and resells it rather than see it trucked off to the rubbish wasteland, is usually a place for spending a good amount of time (if not money) as my sight and soul are filled up. What can I say, I love junk and nostalgia, and if being an adult isn't about surrounding yourself with the things

from (or missing from) your childhood I don't know what it is. Well, yesterday I did what can only be considered Mercy Shopping: not so much for myself, but to keep this little gem from belly flopping (further) in the red. It was OK -- not really anyone's fault (although I'm used to shopping on a 50% discount day) that my happiness is lower than the tank in the Tahoe. It's a sign of the times. Mask wearing screws with the field of vision (so I probably missed things!) making me even more clumsy. I can't breathe and flake out over carbon dioxide ingestion. Katie didn't stick around -- and I'll admit to no one that sometimes I need her to balance my unrestricted consumption of all things fiberiffic, but I do. And don't try to out woe-is-me! My family is larger and the time since our last in-person meeting longer. I'll win (near) every time, if you consider making my heart sad(der) a win.

...I rarely make calls when I'm like this because everyone needs cheering up. I can't cry it out, because I don't want to damage Katie. So I knit. I've almost cleared another grocery bag. I've got enough yarn to make a dozen (maybe more) so I'll be OK. For now, I'm trying to wrap my head around a 6A-2P schedule that will require makeup, hair and a packed lunch before heading out and not downstairs. Driving any distance feels like an imposition now that I've been home so long. Maybe I'm a touch agoraphobic as a result. There's no financial benefit from weathering over at home, so maybe I can get Worker's Comp for this instead?

...Now there's something to ponder.

A View from the Outside In

...It's weird out there, people, and there's no sign of it diluting any time soon.

...Remember when Brittany Spears lost it? She shaved her noggin back on '07 and earned a 5150 for her troubles? Well, she did it again -- not her hair, but she's got a little problem with burning down buildings (or parts of buildings) and ashed out her private gym. And she can't keep her pants on. Girl, for the love of all things holy, eat a pizza. Or a sandwich. Or -- something. All that money and "influence" and opportunity and you
can't get Jimmy John's up in the hills? Allegedly she's lost weight during these corona virus times because she's quarantining without her boyfriend and well, nothing fits (except that Her Girls are remarkably untouched. That's some good plastic surgery right there!). Well, that causes me to wonder --- why are they separate? Even Oprah let Steadman back in the mansion after he served his time in the Guest House that dwarfs my house. Is she immuno-compromised in some way not previously disclosed? Is he some sort of risk? Is this part of some plan to influence her conservatorship ( which has been extended, again)? If you know me, I'm no Brittany fan by any stretch, but I am an observer. The girl has an a-mazing body that she clearly worships by the many, many photos and videos of her exercising and dancing (if only she'd spent some of that time developing her vocal skills). Her kids have spent most of there formative years with their father (heaven help us but someone had to do it). She's got a hearty work ethic -- her stint in Vegas was lucrative up to the point that something tectonic in her world shifted, and she hasn't exactly been the same. Those of us in the real world on the outside are navigating these pandemic times with Tele-Visits with doctors and psychiatrists, picking up medications from a safe distance at drive thru's, ordering up vittles from the grocery and local eateries that are contact-less and oft times driven to our front door. So c'mon girl, get it together. At the very least get some people around you that do something.

...In other news, grocery stores are limiting meat purchases, and now Wendy's is taking burgers off the menu. For fuck's sake?! I get that processing plants have temporarily closed (the whole system needed an overhaul) and packaging and delivery are struggling to adapt, but really, where's the beef? There had to have been plenty in the pipeline, and if restaurants and schools aren't serving it, where is it? Is there a bunker somewhere, like the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, of cutlets and porterhouse, that they are keeping from us? Consumption is consumption, regardless of where it's served (home vs The Sizzler). Katie and I made a run for a burger recently at our local Wendy's. They have discontinued (what the Hell?) the Caesar and Garden side salads. Not because they don't have the plastic packaging, for no, they are using those for the pricier half-sized  salads that they can't get right for the love of God, but I would suspect they aren't pocketing the same profit at this time because there is no end to corporate greed, and everyone is paying higher prices in the grocery chain.

...To that I say This Is 'Merica! Bring me ma beef!

...OK, maybe not that exactly. How did Britain do it during WWII and thereafter? We really have become weak.

...This Sunday is Mother's Day. I don't know about others, but I will be working until 2, then probably napping. What I won't be doing is hanging out with my (rather extensive) family. Too many are in that demographic that makes them susceptible and I couldn't live with myself if anyone suddenly became ill. No flowers, no dinner out. Not until things come to senses. And with that I leave you with a couple things:



First is how shopping in these times can be as fashionable as it is socially distancing (if not creepy and disconcerning):







And finally, a mask tutorial that is beyond epic.

I can't tell you how many times I've been chided for using the folded bandanna/hair tie mask method -- like there's now mask shaming (of course there is).

...Enjoy, my peeps (actually, I think my single viewer is a Google bott that checks in to make sure I'm not trading human beings [or t-bone steaks].)

Rounding Up .... or What's Happening

...Well. It's a deep subject, or so my Hubster would often say.

...In the days that have passed there has been change, as nature would have it.

Even when you can't see his lips move
he's lying. He's a politician.

...The Corona continues, but in Our Fair State we are unclenching a little, or so it seems. It's hard to actually pin it all down since The Rambler (aka the Governor) makes little to no sense when he speaks. I've heard our local Medical Czar says we're in great shape down here in God's Country so open 'er up and let 'er rip. We have been lucky, extremely so. The  State's numbers are nowhere near what has been seen on the Coasts, even with our ever increasing population. I would have lost that bet were there one, since I haven't seen anything that looks like Common Sense so shame on me and I'm happy to be wrong. I logged on to a nemail announcing my return to Office Life later on this month, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. The Upside is that there's a chair that fits my butt and is better on my back. I won't have to front the electricity et al. I'll see hu-mans (to some extent) and Pot Luck and....there's got to be other pluses. The Cons include having to make time to bathe and do my hair and makeup before going in. Not spending as much time with Katie (which might actually be better for both of us). I've resisted the pull to run laundry while I'm working so I can't even go there.

That hard hat needs some queenly bling!

...Why the hesitation? The Media reports that 2/3's of the Country supports staying put for now. I'm the Queen of Safety, and that stems from all those years of being in charge of Little's. There was/is no room for error when people are so quick to muddy a relationship with a lawsuit, so I'm sure my Company is taking that into consideration (or one would hope). We have been blessed with good health through this, and those who remain at the office have been well and want to keep it that way. There's no guarantee one of us won't be exposed on the way in, the way out, or by some unknown source so it's in everyone's best interest to take this easy. Being safe means never having to say you're sorry.

...I really miss Pizza and Pop Wednesdays. And autonomy. And shouting obscenities at (truck driving compensation Neanderthal) drivers.

...AKA my usual.


...In Other News:

--I've bought a copious (if copious means a butt ton) amount of dishcloth yarn. There are many

Not mine, but a fair representation.

reasons for this: I would have knit though my entire stash -- if I hadn't found small balls hither and yon while looking for something to do. It reproduces at will, so I can't be held responsible for that. I've been on a dishcloth bender (like nearly a dozen in a week-ish). There is no end in sight, except for the call for more shopping bags (we're heading towards no plastic, but with Covid that may cause a re-think on that one). And the cost. Heaven help me -- I found it cheap on cheap on cheap. It suddenly started finding me, and it's been a couple months since I've purchased anything and I've been cranking out project after project from yarn about the casa. I've been a responsible knitter -- and I'm sticking to it. (At least, that's what I'm telling people.)

--For my birthday I justified buying a used  tenor sized ukulele. It's vacationing  (aka delayed in shipping) in North Carolina, so it will be arriving late to the party. I'm now suggesting taking up the uke to clients that suddenly find themselves isolating with nothing to do. I'm full service like that.

--I've survived another "trip around the sun." If that doesn't sound miserable I don't know what does. Another Birthday. Another one missed by the Hubs -- not that we would have done much, but we would have gone to my fav Mexican Restaurant for dinner, and he might have remembered to buy a card -- if this was pre-2016. But it's not. So family and friends reached out via the only acceptable medium (social media, Facebook, texts and a Zoom meeting) to wish me well. I ate a disappointing Caesar Salad for dinner, and  Oreo knock-offs. It was pretty uninspired, and regardless of how I try to tell people that being 6 foot above beats being 6 feet below ground, it's sometimes hard to swallow. At this point in time I'm older than Michael was when he was diagnosed, so there's that.

Was he perhaps suffering from
 a bad Covid cut?

--Kim Jon Unstable of North Korea is circulating in the news, as it appears that he is/was "dead, ill or healthy" as was reported. It's a little too difficult to determine if North Korea isn't playing the best game of Weekend at Bernie's with what's been released -- but it could certainly be. Wouldn't that be funny?

--Creepy Ol' Joe Biden is responding to allegations of the sexual kind, brought forth by someone that's a little hard to believe was the target, but let's not victim shame. I chalked up the charges against Trump as leaning heavy on the BS meter, since clearly the man has a type (high maintenance, high fashion) and none of his finger pointers fit the bill, but with Ol' Joe there's no telling -- there appears to be a whole lot of evidence that wasn't brought forth when he was vetted to be VP. Hmmm, curious, don't you think? Yuck, just yuck. I do not believe that Ol Joe will be anything but a temporary placement for the as yet to be named VP. That's where the change of game will come from -- who he names as his Heir Apparent. I think that's where either Hilary or Moo-chele Obama will be inserted. Please, prove me wrong.

--In the month of April, my first on this new (to me) project, I beat the crap out of 15 "tenured" agents. Take that! It was close, by frog's hairs actually. But I beat them. I've been #1 since December (and was #2 in November, #1 in Sept & Oct). I am, as my boss put is "a freakin' Queen!"

1st Liz  – 101.25%

2nd Christine  – 101.1765%

3rd Chelo  – 100.0000%

3rd Troylena – 100.0000%

4th Reyna  – 99.76596%

5th Jill  – 99.7000%

6th Gian  – 99.62791%

7th Solanch  – 99.54167%

8th Robynette – 99.5000%

9th Rori  – 98.86364%

10th Brittany – 97.4000%

11th Isaiah  – 96.433333%

12th Deanna  – 95.8000%

13th Sade – 95.11111%

--- We watched another free concert this week. Rob Thomas and his wife founded Sidewalk Angels,

in association with the Human Society of America, to help animals of all sorts through all sorts of troubles. They raised over $150K, with a hearty $100K match from one of their sponsors. Even though they had internet issues (and who doesn't?) it was a pretty entertaining event. I really appreciate people who write music -- their own and for others,  can play a instrument (or several),  have working studios in their homes and aren't afraid to let us in to see a little of how they

live, who they are beyond the spotlight. Bravo to Rob Thomas, Chris Daughrty and  Jason Mraz. I would have liked to hear more music from the musicians that gave cameos but you can't always get what you want -- although Garth & Trisha are doing it again so maybe you really can.

-- It's been warm -- too warm, too early. I need to schedule a time with Sean to install Sir Swampy for another season of keeping me from killing someone. My hands and feet are swollen from the heat, so I'm a fright for sore eyes (on a good day).  The trees are

finally budding out -- so late in the season. This 2020 year certainly hasn't lived up to the hype, and we may as well throw in the towel at this point. Can we get a do over?

---Please?

The Case for Justification

...Landsakes --- I'm one pooped pup. And for no real reason, unless you figure in that my body is fighting this new schedule like Mike Tyson, and the Pandemic continues.

...Make no mistake, this Pandemic Thing is unlike anything many generations have endured, and it's beginning to show around the edges. I keep trying to look forward to a time when this all reverts to something like it was, but that doesn't looking like anything I can see coming without my glasses on (I'm blind as a bat without them.) Keeping Up With Pollyanna is exhausting (and the wardrobe is nothing like the Kardashians).

...Do you dream? I do, most nights. I have to be diligent about what I watch on TV before bedtime, because I'll dream in character, leading to little sleep. Last night I avoided the theme song from the Outlander series (music plays in my subconscious, too) and dreamed about family, causing me to laugh in my sleep. Yes, I occasionally laugh -- out loud -- in my sleep. I dreamt that my sister and her husband were expecting a baby (a girl) on October 16th, which is amazing giving that it isn't physically possible but nonetheless a lovely thought. And then I deamt that one of my brothers and his wife were expecting a third child, but the Mrs was being a bitch and wouldn't disclose the sex of the pending bairn (keeping in character and all).  It was funny -- trust me. And every time thereafter, as I would drift towards a few more winks, I'd be reminded of this dream and laugh, thus setting up a Catch-22 and me tired. But humored. People having babies in their mid-40's and 50's is funny, as long as it isn't me. I can't wait to post that on the Family Chat (once everyone gets up).


...Have I knit? You bet! I'm keeping up with one dishcloth a day -- if not more and I've just about used is every scrap inch of dishcloth cotton (as is evident in the picture - I won at Yarn Chicken, this time), so more is on the way. I justify the purchase thus:


1) The Pandemic. At least I'm not chopping my hair (just the bangs, but I do that when not quarantining, too).

2) I'm between projects with a purpose and I need the near instant gratification (and by near instant, a handful of hours into a project versus a month of every spare moment is relatively quick).

3) The craft stores are still closed, and even shopping online has been unsuccessful. It's more important that truckers are keeping toilet paper, Lysol and groceries on the shelves right now. There will be a time when the craft stores are full up again.

4) Shopping eBay is my Patriotic Duty.


5) I couldn't pass up the price (and I can afford it). What I paid was what I'd pay locally on sale, and they threw in free shipping so I'm not spending anything extra. (Trust me, it gets easier the more often you flex the muscle.)


...I guess I've gotten pretty good at justifying just about anything since Michael's been gone. The missing Yin to my Yang  means this wheel doesn't spin smoothly and the unchecked growth of clothes and yarn shows. Man, I miss him -- not because he wouldn't have let me go this nuts (he wouldn't have), but he would have been the other half of my heart. I love my kids and I love my family, but when he passed a part of my heart was amputated and I still have Ghost Pains.

...I may as well come clean on another thing -- I bought a (used) tenor ukulele. Yes, I know I own 3 uke's --- I can play mine, and the other two I purchased with the intent of teaching my kids and daycare kiddos. That never happened, and I'm hampered by the tiny fret board, so the (much-ish) larger tenor size should negate any reason to not play. And (!) I've got time between calls to pull out the collection of song books I've squirreled away. And (boo) my Birthday is coming up -- not that I celebrate, but not being in control of that decision this year is causing its own re-flux, so I bit the bullet when the price dropped ten bucks, and it will arrive this week.

...Much like the anniversary of my 24th year.