Wallpaper Choices for the Bathroom

 
 
 

Special Needs Congressman Gets in Trouble with the Law

Little Skye saw a picture of Congressman Ney on the
news. It was a bad picture. The angle of the camera
was looking up making his nostrils look larger and his
eyes puffier.

I'm watching this story unfold and I'm thinking "Good!
I'm glad that republican got busted! One down. How
many more to go?" or some such thoughts.

Then Skye says "He looks like a special needs kid."

I giggled and Skye said "It's not funny, Mommy. You
shouldn't laugh at special needs kids."

I had to apologize and tell Skye that Ney isn't a
special needs kid. It was just a bad photo of a
republican who got in trouble for doing something
naughty. But I am glad that he has such high hopes for
special needs kids, that they can win votes and be
elected as public officials.

Like the Warm Glow of the Fire?

 
 
 
 
What you see in these photos is a DIY disaster averted. I was feeling restless. Very, very restless. The premenstrual primal drive to redecorate my entire house, one unnecessary DIY home "improvement" after another until finally, finally, I was spared by a "lightbulb moment." Literally.

My restlessness was taking form in the way of wanting, NEEDING to rip off the faux brass fireplace frame with the chain curtain that's supposed to keep the sparks from shooting out and burning holes in my rug, because it was too shiney, the chain curtains don't hang right anymore, and the chain pattern is too busy for my eyes. Too busy and too dusty. I can't relax as long as the fireplace has all those problems that are interfering with the feng shui.

Everyone gets urges like this, right? You know when the chi isn't right. You're laying in bed trying to read your book but the light from the window and penetrating the side of your eye forces you to climb out from under the nice cozy sheets and pull down the shade or else you'll never be able to move past the same paragraph you've read over and over without any idea what you just read?

My girlfriend Barbara told me to just rearrange the furniture. But I couldn't listen. After I pulled off the brass frame I had to keep going, in the same OC fashion that Maggie digs rabidly for some scent buried deep in the lawn where I'm trying to get the grass to grow. Fortunately for my husband, I found some patio lights with which to decorate the birch logs, found the warming, comforting energy I was looking for, and abandoned all matter of ripping out the perfectly fine marble surround. 

Wet Dog

 
 
Wet Dog 
Debated on the Title for this one. It was a toss up between WET DOG or TWO WET BITCHES. But I don't want to attract the wrong audience googling around for porn so I went with Wet Dog.

Maggie loved her first bike ride in the backpack. She knew where I was going yesterday and barked like mad when I headed out on my bike with my friend Deb. We even went around Antrim Lake, mine and MAggie's special dog walk place. I had dog owner guilt but when I got home Maggie had totally forgiven me.

Maggie in the Backpack

 
 
Maggie in the backpack after her first bike ride.