...I mean I really have got NOTHING. I don't even have a refrigerator-buying-adventure story to tell you, since the old one seems to have made enough of a recovery that we're going to wait 'til the weekend to pick out a new one. That decision right there will probably be good for a story in the next few days, because guaranteed....since we decided to give it a couple more days, it WILL die. But I fed it lots of homemade refrigerator food and gave it herbal teas, so it should be just fine. Is motherwort good for refrigerators, or should I be focusing more on the male libido-enhancing herbs for this? I'm conflicted, because although it IS a vessel, it also seems to have some major power issues. Perhaps it has frostate problems. (Oh. Oh. I just crack myself up.) And frigidity doesn't reside totally with the female gender. Votes?
Is that not the most hideous thing you've ever seen? (not you, Cari-in-the-background whose blog I always want to call Dogs Eat Yarn instead of Dogs STEAL Yarn - you're gorgeous with your yarn hair and your striped knee socks that nobody can see but I can remember, and you're not eating an obscene Rice Square, either, but you're knitting socks on two circs and you tried to teach me and I'm just a total two-circs-socks failure, boo-hoo.)
The Crispy Rice Squares at The Point are large. Do you believe me now? I've told a few people this, and I'm quite sure they haven't been able to grasp the concept. We have houses in Vermont that are smaller than this. You could strap a pony to this thing, hollow it out, put wheels on it, and carry a full household of possessions across the country to Utah in it.
So, thanks to the unkind photography (by her own admission, she "specializes in hideous") of a "dear pal," straight from New York City to you......here's proof of one of my less proud moments. This photo was my ace in the hole....saved up for a day when I had absoLUTEly nothing to say. I figured I'd pull it out of the arsenal and at least make you laugh. My "pal" wanted to put this photo in her blog IN THE WORST WAY, but she was afraid she would then be exposed, and you would see her for what she really is -- just a mean old person who takes hideous-looking photos of perfectly nice people who come to visit her in her fair city. She is very small, but she can pack a lot of mean into that small space, I'll tell ya THAT! There. I've got that off my chest. Probably should go get some motherwort tea now to take care of some of my ISSUES. (votes?)
So now I've gone and blown my wad, all for a lousy Thursday when probably nobody is reading anyway because they've all ducked out for an early 4th of July weekend. Not sure it was worth it.
Since I'm airing dirty laundry, I might as well tell you that last night I was complicit in the baking of a cake from a mix -- And while I have no moral superiority issues with a boxed-mix cake (well, yes, I kind of do, but I'm trying not to be too judgmental about, you know....a little cake), it was the canned frosting that really tipped the scales. Abigail takes part in her first bank office potluck tomorrow, and she was pretty excited, decided she wanted to bring a chocolate cake with white frosting, and had it all planned. Her plan was not the same plan I would have made, but she's pretty excited about it, and who am I to stand in the way of a young summer bank teller's excitement? And with photographic blackmailing evidence such as the thing above hanging around out there, who the heck am I to stand in the way of a Duncan Hines Devil's Food box?
And Abigail would like me to tell you, blogland, that she beat my ass soundly in Scrabble last night. Oh, big deal. It was the canned frosting. I couldn't get past it. And I figure, since I've spent umpty-bazillion-kazillion dollars on her education, she damn well OUGHT to be able to beat me in Scrabble by now. (votes?)
There are two things that I think you must see, if you haven't.
1. Sweetie Pie
2. The Girls -- You must read some of Jane's older entries for full character sketches of her dolls. They are just wonderful!