honest to all things both holy and unholy in the Universe: FORGOT ABOUT HER BLOG!!
Until ten minutes ago. Seriously. If you met her in the grocery store and said "how's that blog?" she would have said, "what blog?"
So taken was she with every everyday life -- so present -- that she completely forgot about her online existence, which is frequently more predictable and pleasant than the reality in her kitchen.
Random update!
Shall she start with the snow? After nonstop news coverage about the impending blizzard -- including on Public Radio, shame on you, - the winter blast to beat all blasts fizzled into a weenie foot of snow. In Minnesota terms, this isn't even a hiccup. Christmas Eve at the in-laws happened as usual.
Santa had a boom year and Merrick has enough footie pajamas to last him until he's 12 and plans to wear them nonstop that long as well. Yes, he's been in pajamas since Thursday night and he still can't read! That kid is a genius with a stick, though.
She is not allowed to blog about Stryker. Let's just say he's happy and some of that involves clothing, baseball and computers.
Tomorrow, Scarlett starts a three month marathon that frightens even the stage-sturdy Matron. Between rehearsals and performances, that child has just five days off from December 28 to April 1. Think Scarlett anxious?
Scarlett: "OH MY GOD MAMA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO ON THE FIRST OF APRIL?"
Scarlett: "OH MY GOD MAMA WHAT AM I GOING TO DO ON THE FIRST OF APRIL?"
But an 11 year old is not always aware of her own best interests. That's where the Stage Mother steps in and perhaps this time, the laid-back Matron dropped the ball by not saying 'no' to something. She of the 'follow the child' philosophy will report in and try not to follow the kid over a cliff.
Satan's Familiar has not shed his cloven hoof since she last checked in on Wednesday, but the Matron had to pull the plug on Snappy, the foster dog. Despite all their best interventions, the dog has two unbreakable habits:
He bites.
He pees.
The Matron is sporting a bandaged wrist with fang marks. The house? Pee spots on the carpet upstairs, by the master bed, near the chair in the office, around the dining room and kitchen tables, in the front hallway--and spectacularly, he has now peed on the Matron's bed! On the bed, as in mattress and pillow.
Next week, Snappy is moving to a foster home designed to handle pets with "behavior problems."
The children would be mourning but in a move of complete insanity, the Matron agreed to take two PUPPIES! The tiny teeny five pounders arrive sometime this coming week if all clicks smoothly.
If all clicks smoothly + puppies. Erroneous equation.
Let's just end this rather random update with a nod to what the piddling storm did bring: ice. Thanks to a mixture of rain and snow on Christmas Day half of the state is a sheet of ice. This is actually not a joke or exaggeration. Okay, okay, a wee bit of geographic hyperbole but the Twin Cities is certainly a skating rink.
Lo and behold the spikes the Matron now straps onto her running shoes. This is how she manages the daily four miles in the winter. Plus three pairs of running pants, wool socks, a t-shirt, a running shirt, running jacket, vest, hat, gloves and neck warmer.
Lo and behold the spikes the Matron now straps onto her running shoes. This is how she manages the daily four miles in the winter. Plus three pairs of running pants, wool socks, a t-shirt, a running shirt, running jacket, vest, hat, gloves and neck warmer.
What she'll do for forty minutes of solitude. And size 1 jeans.
2010, here she comes.
4 comments:
Hummmm. I'd climb up in the attic for 40 minutes of solitude in a warmer drier, less slippery environment.
Ice and running should not be mentioned in the same sentence. Seriously. Lock yourself in the bathroom for that 40 minutes instead.
Cleats on those running shoes! Wow. I'm settling for XC skiing these days.
Puppies! I hope SF can't influence their behavior--can dogs do that to one another? Will you quarantine SF? I'm totally staying tuned!
Craziness, indeed. Regarding the puppies: clean the pee spots, and clean them well, before the puppies arrive. They might think the, er, "aroma" of the previous dog means that's the Place to Go.
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