My Town Monday - Going "Moist"

I would not make a good reporter. I could not even go into the parking lot of this building to get a good photo for fear that someone I know might see my vehicle there. I stopped at a respectable business nearby. What is this building that, judging from the number of cars outside, is doing a good business? The Love Stuff Store. (Dh calls it the "Love Shack".) Oh, and they sell cigarettes, too.

It doesn't say on the sign what kind of "love stuff" they sell, and no one I know has ever ventured in to see (or at least admitted it). I do know a few people that tried picketing the business for it's apparently immoral in nature, but protesting so far has done little good.

This is actually not located in "My Town" or even my county (it is the next county over and unfortunately at the exit for people coming in to my house from the north), so you may wonder why I include it in my MTM post. You would not find such a store in my county, nor would you find a liquor store or stand alone bar. You will find no night clubs or dance halls, or beer joints. Until very recently and most of the time I have lived here, my town and county was "dry". You could not buy alcohol here. At all.

At some point, due either the influx of "outsiders" and growth or the realization that no restaurants would locate in our county without liquor sales or both, the county went "moist". Now, restaurants that seat over 100 people may serve alcohol. As a result, we gained several restaurants in town and I can have a Corona with my burrito or a Tennet's with my fish and chips. The down side? There was a time when you could bring your own bottle of wine and a restaurant would serve it to you for a small or no charge. Not any more. Still, I find having a few more restaurant choices worth it.

With no liquor sales to individuals, those of us in our county that enjoy a glass of wine with our meal or have a (cough) prescribed glass of wine to avoid cancer, must drive to the next county over to buy our hooch or as I do, make our own (which is cheaper anyway and surprisingly good wine). Of course there is always the option of declaring that one is too tired to cook and must go to the Irish pub for a beer and a plate of fish and chips.

Speaking of, we went there on Friday night with my mom and stepfather. Going to our table, I was wondering who I might see that I know. I laughed when I saw my good friends from Good Shepherd's Care tucked into a corner. During our meal, we saw several other close neighbors to the point that we were making a bit of a disruption with all our laughing and greeting. But isn't that what a pub is all about?

My Town Monday is a virtual Irish pub, where we can greet friends and share something about our corner of the world. It is the brainchild of Travis Erwin, soon to be famous author. He is taking a break until after the holidays in hosting MTM. Chris at e-Cuneiform Scratchings and I will be hosting MTM in the interim. If you would like a link to your MTM post, please leave me a message in the comments section.

Do a little virtual traveling by visiting:

Cloudia in Waikiki (she has several this week that show beautiful Hawaii)
Jennifer Jilks in Muskoka, Ontario, Canada
Debra in Peninsula, Ohio
Patti Abbott in Detroit, Michigan
Barbara Martin in Seaton Village, Toronto
Chuck in Kentucky
Chris in Hong Kong
J Winter in Cincinnati, Ohio

Saturday's Notes

Yesterday, a windstorm came with the rain and swept away the nativity scene in front of the Dairy Queen. I saw it soon after it happened. Baby Jesus was upside down and the lambs were laying on their sides. The "barn" was completely down, blown over like an old Kentucky tobacco barn. To answer a question asked in another blog by a reader, no I don't always have my camera with me, but in this case, wish I had, for today when I went back, someone had cleared away the disaster victims and all that remained to mark the spot was a rectangle of straw. Will we have a live nativity this year?

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Blatant product endorsement (if only I got paid!)

Paris, our 5 year old Japanese Chin mutant dog, got a terrible ear infection. At the same time, her eyes were yucky. I took her to the vet, and many dollars later, her ears had been supposedly "drained" and we followed the prescribed course of action. Days later, her ears returned to the same condition and her eyes got worse. Not wanting to have her sedated and have another big bill, I did some Googling and found this product with rave reviews called Zymox. In a seven day course of treatment, at the fifth day, her ears are no longer chucking out Volkswagon-sized balls of brown ear wax and no longer have open sores. Today, the another vet confirmed that the ear treatment is working. This product also comes in a cleaner solution to prevent this problem from occurring in the first place. Buy it! I also use Vodka (I just happened to have some around) to clean and dry the outer ear between treatment.

As for her eyes, they remain gunky, and the new vet who has raised Shitzu (another mutant breed), said that it isn't uncommon for these googly-eyed dogs to develop immune problems shutting off tear production, which has resulted in affected eyes. We have a course of medicine for that, and a recheck next week. She may have glaucoma. I may need a job.

I am disappointed, however, that I could have spent $9 for Zymox to try to clear the ears, and it would have worked, rather than over $200 and the pain of the procedure and risk of sedation.

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If one more store clerk asks me if I'm ready for Christmas, you might be able to write a murder non-mystery based on my real life experiences. Would it be Scroogish to yell, "No, DAMMIT!"

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That said, I am noticing too many people lounging around in the aisleways at the StuffMart and CostU. Do you have no deadlines, people? Do you not know that we should all be in a great hurry? Please follow convention and keep your cart to the right. I want a megaphone - too bad I don't cuss (much) - to yell "GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!" because polite "excuse me's" don't seem to be working. Maybe Christmas shopping stresses me a tiny bit. Does it you?

Horse Slaughter

The Kentucky Horse Council recently sent me a survey on my opinions on horse slaughter. Over 22,000 horses were sent to slaughter in 2007, down from over 300,000 in the late 1980's, early 90's. Here in Kentucky where horses are big business, this issue comes up alot, particularly when there is a drought (like last year) and horses are found neglected and starving.

All I've ever heard was that the horses were subject to inhumane practices when being led to slaughter. Yet, I also hear that there are too many horses that are unwanted and unusable. It is estimated (according to AAEP) that the average care of a horse per year is $2500. It would take $144 million a year in Kentucky alone to care for unwanted horses alive that are unwanted and need care.

I struggle with this. As a meat eater (of cows, pigs, and chickens), I find it difficult to judge those that eat horse. Yet, culturally, it isn't accepted here any more than eating our other anthropomorphized friends, the dogs and cats. For those of you that say horses are different, I will tell you that cows, pigs, and chickens, have intelligence and personality.

Would I send my own horse, sick or unusable, to slaughter? Of course not. The neighbor's wild and uncontrolled and untrained pain in the #ss horses? Maybe. I think the survey misses one very important point. How did we get to this point of having up to 57,600 in Kentucky alone that are unusable or unwanted?

Each spring, I love to see the babies in the field, laying in the sun with their tiny tail flicking flies, or kicking up their heels. You'd have to be a real sour-puss to not smile at the sight. Yet, like dogs and cats, breeding should be limited to reproducing only special horses. It is not ethical to reproduce ordinary backyard horses to maybe make a few dollars, particularly if you are not a professional trainer. No where in the survey does it address stopping the continuing reproduction of too many horses.

What about you? Are you for or against horse slaughter? Have you or would you eat horse meat? Should the US be allowed to supply horse meat, using unwanted or unusable horses only, for foreign markets?

Junosmom, pondering

One of William's favorite video series is Magic School Bus, and I think he learns quite a bit from them. They were, however, made several years ago and science is always evolving and changing. Conversation while car schooling:

William: Know what my favorite planet is? The blue one.
Me (aka doesn't know anything or DKA): You know they aren't really the color shown in Magic....
William: Which one is the blue one?
DKA: I don't know. (Wild guess.) Neptune.
William: Yeah, that's the one.
DKA: So...How many planets are there?
William: (Giving the answer anyone educated in the good old days would tell ya) NINE!
DKA: Well, they used to say nine, but now, Pluto is no longer a planet. There are eight.
William: No, mom, (in exasperated voice) there are nine.
DKA: Pluto is too small.
William: Mom, you can't just stop being a planet! A planet is a planet!
DKA: Well, it still is the same size and in the same place but now it is called something else.
William: No, a planet is a planet, get it? You can't just stop being a planet. RIGHT?
DKA: Yes, a planet is a planet.

Half of the people in the USA would agree with that. After all, that's what we were taught, so it must be right. How did you feel about Pluto's demotion?

Wordless Wednesday - Elf Yourself

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

It Takes Two...

Perhaps only if you love books as much as I do, would you understand my delight in finding a section at the Main Library that contained all of their new picture books. It was hard to contain myself and not scoop all of them up. It wouldn't be fair to other patrons to take all of the new books. In a hurry, I quickly assessed each book, mainly based on the cover, as most newer books have no cover jacket which gives details about the story on the inside flap.

This one looked cute. It had a photo of a penguin family on the front, and given the plethora of penguin movies lately, I thought it might fit in to continuing a study of them. I stuck it in my crate. Some days later and unsuspecting, I pulled out several books to read to William. After reading several pages, I slowed. "Uh, let's read a different book," I said.

My pause and momentary confusion did not go unnoticed by William. All you have to do is say, "You can't watch this show, it's too scary" or "Close your eyes" or "No, this is not appropriate for you" to pique his interest and ensure that he will do his damnedest to see or hear it. I decided to continue to read the book and not make a big issue of it, and maybe, like most books, we'd read it one time and that would satisfy him. He would forget it. He only has a select number of books he reads more than once.

What made me a little uncomfortable? I was unprepared for the subject matter of And Tango Makes Three and just before bedtime, I didn't want to get into a conversation with my six year old about gay adoption, which is basically the underlying message of this book. The story line is that two male penguins were paired, and yet had no egg. Given an egg by a human, they successfully hatched the egg and parented the chick, as male penguins often do in a male-female relationship.

Can penguins really be "gay"? Well, Google "gay penguins" for some interesting reading. In this true story contained in this book, after successfully raising their chick Tango, Roy and Silo broke up when a hussy named Scrappy stole Silo away, leaving Roy despondent. Still, there are many accounts of gay couples among penguins in captivity, once the blood tests are done (you can't visually tell a boy penguin from a girl).

My question for you is should the library have a separate section for children's books that might be objectionable to some parents? Should this book be in a "mature" children's section? Would you read this book to your child?

Boo-hiss

The neon sign on the Mexican restaurant, our destination, was flickering even though the place was just opened.

"Uh-oh," exclaimed dh. "Think that's an omen?"

"Yes," I replied. "It's a bad sign."

Please keep your boos to yourself.

BTW, notice our gray skies. I'm going to go take some Vitamin D now.

My Town Monday - A Living Nativity

For fourteen years, my town had a nativity scene set up on the courthouse lawn. On a main road, many people passed the decoration which had lit plastic statues representing the main characters in the Nativity. The week of Christmas and no matter the weather, church members and live animals replaced the plastic figures. If you honked in passing, they would smile and wave. It was a tradition.

In 2004, fearing a lawsuit from the ACLU, the powers that be in the county decided that the Nativity scene could no longer have space on the courthouse lawn which was public property. The Nativity scene was moved and is now located yearly in a space between the Dairy Queen and the cemetary. Still on the main road, the people will still smile and wave if you honk. The atmosphere, with modern blaring lights isn't as fine as the towering oaks of the previous location.

What do you think? Should religious displays, including non-Christian ones, be given a space to display during holidays on public property?

My Town Monday, where talented bloggers tell us about their corner of the world, is the brainchild of Travis Erwin, soon to be famous author. He is taking a break until after the holidays in hosting MTM. Chris at e-Cuneiform Scratchings and I will be hosting MTM in the interim. If you would like a link to your MTM post, please leave me a message in the comments section.

Do a little virtual traveling by visiting:

Chuck in Kentucky
Jennifer Jilks, Muskoka, Ontario, Canada
Cloudia in Waikiki, Hawaii
Debra in the Village of Peninsula, Ohio
Mary in Olmsted Falls, Ohio
Barbara Martin in Toronto, Ontario Canada
Chris in Cambodia
J Winter in Cincinnati, Ohio
Patti Abbott in Detroit, Michigan

Rejoice

Our Church has a "Children's Liturgy" for kids in kindergarten through second grade. Respecting that they have more of a need to be involved and moving, they are called up to the front of the Church to gather before removing to some rooms set aside for them to hear the readings and activities.

Father Mark generally addresses the group first with a short message.

"Today," he said, "is the Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent. Father Mark is wearing ROSE colored robes, NOT pink, ROSE. Okay??" He should have stopped there. "Now, what color am I wearing?"

The group loudly announced, "PINK!!" The Church erupted in laughter.

Father rolled his eyes, looked heavenward, and said, "All in the name of Christ! I can see I have a lot of work to do."

After the children removed to their room, he turned to the remaining congregation and reminded us of Johnny Carson's words, "Never work with animals or children."

What You Don't Know....

As relatives of former dairy farmers, we eat real butter. Upon marrying into this family, I learned that butter keeps quite long at room temperature, though it must be covered to protect it from flies and things dropping into it. I found a nice jar with a lid to keep the butter, but it is unusual to find it filled. Rather, it is more likely that someone gets out a stick of butter and uses it as is, leaving it on the counter to soften.

So, this morning, dh looked at a stick on the counter suspiciously. "Does this look like something licked it?" he asked, knowing that the cats and dogs have been indicted for such crimes in the past.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "It won't be wasted. I'll just mix it up in the butter dish, and you'll never know."

He had jam on his toast.

A Deep Subject

Animals are, in some ways, no different than people. Some are big, some are little. Some are slobs, some are very neat. Jorgen and our new pony, Phantom, are in many respects alike. Both are geldings and about the same size, 13 and a half hands. That's where the similarities end.

Jorgen is a boss horse. In fact, he is often the boss of horses much, much larger than himself and fights to protect his herd. As a Swedish Gotland, he is of a very cool temperment and is mostly quiet in his stall. He is the Felix Unger of horses as you see here. He makes a tidy pile for us each night, and sometimes, will even not wet the stall. As far as horse stall cleaning goes, his is a pleasure to clean.

Phantom, on the other hand, is at the bottom of the herd social stratus. For whatever reason, he's a bit nervous in his stall. As a result, he is the Ocscar Madison of horses.

This photo actually is quite neat compared to the way he usually leaves it:

We use pelleted bedding, basically compressed shavings. You add a bit of water to it, and it swells and becomes very nice sawdust bedding. Jorgen's stall will rarely need much added to it. Phantom, on the other hand, will likely need two bags a week with each bag weighing in at 40 lbs. It is nearly impossible to not waste a good deal of the bedding as he grinds the manure up into the good bedding by his constant pacing. My luck to get another horse that isn't potty trained.

Notes:

Snow today, if you can call the light dusting we get snow.

I had giclées made today of some of Anna's paintings. If they turn out well, we may offer a limited number of them for sale. What is a giclée you ask? You take a scan or digital image of a painting and have it printed on a canvas. If well done, you can hardly tell they aren't original paintings.

Wordless Wednesday - Still Life by Anna

When Life Hands You a Broken Toilet...

...plant flowers.

I received an email a bit too late from a fellow humorist who suggested that dh and I acted in haste by removing the broken toilet when it could have simply been fixed with white duct tape. Dh said it occurred to him....but, I interupted the phone call, it's too late. I'd done hauled it up to the front porch and planted flowers in it. Dh said, "YOU DIDN'T." Which shows that he thinks I'm capable of 'bout anything. (Photo on left for inspiration but does not represent the actual product.)

Yesterday, was a beautiful surprise with temperatures in the 50s. I spread horse manure with my new spreader, a birthday gift from my father who said I was so full of it, I ought to spread it around. I procured and stacked a load of hay, and we worked about the barn.

Lauren decided that after two weeks, it was time to integrate the two new horses with our resident horses. We locked the gate across the driveway, tied up the dog, and let them in together. We were prepared for a knock-down, drag-out fight. So anti-climactic it was! A few squeals and a fight or two over who got which hay pile and it was all over. It is also a relief, as it will mean considerably less work in carrying water and walking two horses to the back pasture.

Notes:
New little kitty has a cold.

After putting in the heat lamp (light), we are now getting two whole eggs a day. Yee-haw (not).

Paris, mutant Japanese Chin dog, again has an ear infection after spending boo-coo dollars last week to drain the ear. I am working on home remedies now.

Lazarus (cat) caught a mouse in the house last night which only slightly allows him to stay about the house given that he's mostly insane and growls at me.

My Town Monday - Christmas Past

Each year, my town celebrates the coming of Christmas with a "Light Up (Our Town)" celebration the first Friday of December. Regardless of the unpredictable weather, for one night, the town is magical. Carolers gather on the steps of the Courthouse and people stamp the cold out with their feet, clutching steaming styrofoam cups of free hot chocolate.

William and I hurried into the line to see Santa, who traditionally arrives by horse-drawn carriage to sit in the covered gazebo on the lawn of the county jail. Often, the line extends a city block and we normally forgo the wait. This year, he was one of the first to get in his requests. Santa arrived right after the lights went on for the Christmas season.

Friends and acquaintances waved at each other through store and restaurant windows or as they passed on the sidewalk. Main Street was blocked to traffic as pedestrians strolled up and down the street taking in the sights. We even noticed that only two trains went down Main Street that night. (Railroad tracks run straight through town on Main Street.) It was so small town America, so seemingly safe and wholesome. So Christmas past. This is why we live in My Town.

Our new neighbors who are now friends found us and made reservations for us all at the Irish Pub, as the girls visited with teen friends along the street. William and I ventured over to watch the Balloon Man make hats for eager children though William found it well worth the wait.



Once in the pub, we greeted other friends at nearby tables, enjoyed a Tenent's (Scottish beer - or at least I did!) with our fish and chips. William tried to cajole me into standing in line for a horse drawn carriage ride, but the cold and long day was enough for me. After the afternoon piano party (which went well even without a downstairs toilet) thank you, and horse chores ahead of me, I had to beg off and get home.

Here is a short video of the lighting of My Town:



My Town Monday is the brainchild of Travis Erwin, soon to be famous author. He is taking a break until after the holidays in hosting MTM. Chris at e-Cuneiform Scratchings and I will be hosting MTM in the interim. If you would like a link to your MTM post, please leave me a message in the comments section.

Links to other My Town Monday Posts:

Jenn Jilks - Visits Washington, D.C. and Alexandria
Packsaddle - Hamilton, Texas
Debra - Peninsula, Ohio
Chuck - Kentucky
Cloudia - Waikiki, Hawaii
Sepiru Chris - Hong Kong
pattinase (abbott) - Detroit, Michigan

...Tell Me If You Can

"He's not the real Santa," William declared. "He's just one of his servants."

I'm not sure where he got the terminology or why this particular Santa wasn't convincing. The man certainly had a real beard, which he tugged on for the sake of the older and more skeptical kids. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, and he demonstrated that his gloves came off. If my eyes were any judge, his "bowl full of jelly" was real as well.

We were near the front of the line for the first time at our town's annual visit from Santa in the Gazebo in front of the county jail. (How touching.) The line snaked back a block to the courthouse. Santa took several minutes with each child and very sincerely talked to each one. As someone in the front of the line, I was appreciative. Were I in the back of the line (like I usually am), I'd be pissed. It was colder 'n blue blazes (whatever they are).

William wondered before his visit what he should tell Santa. In the end, he told him that his wish list was on the computer and he'd email it to Santa, or send it in the mail. Santa thought that was fine.


This Christmas will be bittersweet. He's growing up fast, and his grown up mind knows this fat man can't possibly make it down our chimney.

"Is there really a Santa," he asked one night while taking his shower, "or did God really just make a magical person?"

My task will be to see that he knows that it is magical, the Christmas season. It is a magical time of preparing for a small baby, who changed the world.

(More tomorrow in my MTM-My Town Monday about the annual "Light Up" night.)

From My Front Porch

I have to laugh or I'll cry

Today, we are hosting an annual Christmas party for some of the members of the piano studio where both Lauren and William study. Most attendees are people that have been to my house before and have seen both it and me at the worst. (Well, physically at least. They've not seen my screamin' banshee tantrum.) They still call me a friend. But when you play hostess, you start sprucing things up, looking at your house in a way other people might see it.

For some time, we've wanted to paint the walls to better background Anna's paintings. So we did that, which of course made the woodwork look bad, so that was painted as well as the doors, which also needed the glass cleaned. And so on and so on. The more I did, the more that needed to be done.

I suppose I have been working myself into a physical deficit, getting up early, going to bed late. That's when things start going bad, you know? Tempers get a little short. So it was when Daisy, our Beagledor dog was in the garage. Couldn't decide for the life of her whether to do in or go out and it kept messing with the automatic garage door opener as I tried to shut the door. So, forget it, I said and set myself up by leaving the door one foot down from open. Just enough to later catch the top of Eugene and rip a wheel off of the garage door as I tried to back out. I think it can be fixed but I was grateful that dh wasn't too upset with me. Turns out, his generosity was providential.

I had, that day, decided we really, really needed a new toilet seat, and picked up a new one at StuffMart. An instant, easy fix, or so I thought. The bolts on the seat were a bit rusty and try as I might, I could not get them off. Busy with other things, I put that aside for dh to fix later after dinner. That's when I heard a clatter that sounded suspiciously like breaking glass, or shall I say, porcelain. No biggie, there were two large chips out of the side of the bowl, I guess maybe because you can't pound out a bolt from porcelain with a sledgehammer. But then, as a garage door destroyer, I extended the same grace he had extended me. I'd leave the old lid, clean up the toilet a bit, and forget it. Right? Wrong.

William later went to use said facilities and one of the few times he ever does, flushed. "MOM!" he yelled. "There's water shooting out the side of the toilet!" And sure enough, the toilet is a bit more complicated than I thought, and has a channel that was opened with the chip in the bowl, and shoots out water when flushed.

I am trying to be grateful, like Good Shepherd's Care, really I am. I still have two other bathrooms, though upstairs, as this one is OUT OF ORDER for the party. I will remove the hazardous materials warning sign from the girls' bathroom and see if we can get it spruced up for the party today.

I am so not doing this again.

Horse Feathers

Yesterday morning, "Larry" came to call on our growing herd of horses. Larry is a horse dentist and does a little chiropractic on the side. When Larry comes to visit, it is more like a social visit where he fits in a little work on your horses in between trading how we've been, what horses he has been working, and the like. When he leaves, you are sure your horses are better for it. Slowly, he moves around a horse, quietly, talking while he takes hold of its tail and yanks. Pop! Then the horse relaxed, a soft look in his eye.

Sticking practically his whole arm up in the horses mouths to check and then file their teeth, they stood patiently working their tongues about, trying to dislodge the clamp holding their mouths open. Phantom, he tells me, is more like 5.5 years old, not the 8 years we suspected. That's a good thing, given that his temperament is so calm. It says a lot for his future disposition which with work, should only improve. We asked his opinion on Phantom's back, as the horse tended to bunch up in the hind quarters. Coming off of the auction with a bad cold and being very wormy to boot, it is likely the poor horse is still not feeling well. We won't be able to worm him until he recovers a bit from the cold. But, all signs are that he'll shape up nicely and his back seems sound.

About the time Larry lit up another cigarette between treating horses, my friend showed up with her four children. Larry stood talking with us, occasionally spitting into the limestone aisle way. The look on friend's twelve year old daughter's face was priceless. "Disgusting" was written all over it. Still, they stayed and watched Larry gently rub over my Roxie (minature horse). "She don't need nothin' done."

We moved onto Chiron (miniature gelding). Lauren was holding him, and I was distracted talking to my friend. Next thing I knew, Larry was holding his pliers out to me with something at the tip. What's that? I asked. Well, turned out Chiron, age 2.5 years, was at the age that the baby horse teeth get wiggly and hopefully fall out. Since Larry was there, he pulled teeth to prevent "fusing" of baby teeth to adult teeth, as a preventative to a possible problem. As he began handing me teeth, I started laughing. Could I fool the tooth fairy with these? Although no one has ever said I was horse-faced, perhaps the fairy, in the darkness wouldn't notice.

What I then noticed is that my friend, after the first pulled tooth, began backing away, claiming a need to get the kids home for lunch. Right now!~ Chiron's mouth was bleeding slightly, but I knew it was mostly saliva. I offered her a tooth to take with her to show her friends. No, she demurred, that was okay. I could keep them. She might have started running to the car, I'm not quite sure. In all Chiron had six baby teeth pulled, but they came out quickly and he was soon eating hay with the molars he had left.

Larry stayed on, talking and smoking a few more cigarettes. He's another example of why I like living here. I always love when people tell me I need to send my kids to school so they'll be exposed to diversity. Love it. Don't need to have diversity in our own lives, just impose it on our kids. Poppycock! Through branching out into the horse world, through our volunteer jobs, our Church and living in the real world, we meet real people. People not at all like ourselves, but enjoyable all the same.

Phantom and I go for a ride near home:

Notes:
Put up the Christmas tree today.

Wordless Wednesday - Introducing "Phantom"

My blog is rather like the economy: its health has little to do with reality but rather the mood of those in charge. It becomes a barometer of my life, and it becomes unnecessary to ask how I am doing "busy since you aren't blogging". Thankfully, I retain my physical health, though my mental status, you would have to inquire of those who have the dubious fortune of sharing this journey with me.

It took three different coats of paint for me to finally find the right color for the main room of our house, not including a layer of white primer to cover the previous dark color. Finally, the main portion of the painting is done, but of course, in painting, I notice a lot of other things that must be done, and hopefully before I host a piano party on Friday. Though all the guests have seen my house at its worst (well maybe not its worst for Child Protective Services hasn't shown up yet) but it is a party, and it would be good that they not have to perch on a ladder while eating their lunches.

I appreciate all the nice comments on the photos of me. Yes, my hair is a bit longer than in my "stock" photo, but I plan soon to get to the hairdresser. I have to decide if whether to fit it in after the horse chiropractor comes (usually a very long visit, for he likes to have a smoke and talk), William's piano lesson and meeting the "church lady" for an assignment from Hell. Or perhaps after the piano tuner tomorrow and Thursday afternoon activities. Somewhere in there.

I'm trying to get up earlier to fit in more time to my day. My kids will tell you that as a result, it has affected my mood somewhat. I don't always look like that smiling, relaxed woman in the photo to your right. Some mornings, I look a bit more like this while trying to rally the troops to get going in the morning. Of course this is before my morning coffee.



And that is on my good days. Some days, it's an effort to get my makeup on and do my hair.
I think this look is rather becoming, don't you?