The Lumberjack's Wife

You know what is killing me?  Lost.  Lost is killing me.  I stayed up until 11pm watching that darn show on the Netflix.  When will it end?  David fell asleep right after the first episode we watched.  And then I kinda, sorta watched 3 more.  I’m not even going to tell him.  He is so darn confused in that show, it won’t even matter.

Yes.  I am the world’s most loving wife. But it can’t be helped.  Each episode gets weirder and weirder and I just have to see what happens next.

So.  I am tired today.  Which great for the homeschooling.  Plus I hurt my elbow today and it is throbbing something fierce.  Seriously.  I had to ice it.  A hope chest thingie slammed shut on me while I was putting things away.  Go ahead.  Feel badly for me.

So.  I have nothing really of importance to say.  And this does not surprise you.  But I can show you some random pictures and call it good.

Rabbits.

Oh, I can hear you now.  “Taylor!  Enough with the rabbits!  We don’t care! WE DON’T CARE!”  But look, dear readers!  We have a runt!  The white one is the mama.  Her name is Chewy.  Which is a dumb name and it was my girls who came up with it.  I like fantastic names, such as Norma Jean Riley, Ina Mae, Scarlett O-Hare-A, and Bertha.

My girls like names like Chewy, Snowflake, and Buttercup.  And I have to smile and support them, because I am their mother.  But, seriously.  They need to up their game.

Anyways.  Chewy is the mama.  The two gray bunnies are the babies, born on the same day.  Look at how tiny the little one is!

Sure.  I COULD have taken the rabbits out of the cage so you could see it better.  But that would mean I would have to TOUCH the rabbits.  Ew.  They are so wiggly and poopy.

Yes.  I think he is nursing.  Don’t blush.  These are the facts of life.  David feels he should be put down (Hello, Mr. Arabel.  Name that book).  But I think he is quirky.  I have named him Tiny Tim.  And no, I don’t know if it is a boy for reals.  We’ve been through this dear readers.  It is not as simple as one might think.  They look kind of the same down there.

Let’s just leave it at that.

Meet Handsome Dude’s bike.

She’s a beaut, ain’t she?  Handsome Dude took over Daisy Mae’s princess bike.  Then David ran over it once in the driveway, rendering the front tire useless.  So, he took a tire off of a different bike and called it good.

I cannot be certain, but I have been told that this bike also lacks brakes.

Handsome Dude has finally moved on from this bike.  And he insists that we sell it on Craigslist for lots of moneys.  I’ve tried to explain to him why it might not be a hot item, but he no comprendo.

Yes. Our garage is tidy.  I’m glad you noticed.

Speaking of tidy . . .

Check out David’s shop.  I have walked out there on numerous occasions, determined to tidy it.  But I have no idea what 99% of the items in there are.  So, I have no idea how to sort.  My poor husband is too busy to organize it.

Look at my elbow!  That’s my injured elbowed!  I am surprised I was able to take the picture, it hurts that bad.

And, finally, this is my rocking chair.

My husband bought this for me back in aught-4.  Lucy nibbled on it a bit.

Do you know who Lucy is?  Are you a confused reader?

You are not alone.

Should I give in and take it to the dump?  Thoughts?

Yes.  There is a cooler from our latest camping trip “drying out” on my porch.  I’m not lazy at all.  I just feel it takes a good week to properly dry out a cooler.

Later Dudes.

I am SUPPOSED to be doing my lesson planning for homeschool co-op.  Again.  And here I am, blogging.  Again.

Ask me how last week’s lessons went.

Let us discuss this past weekend, shall we?  We went camping and it MIGHT just be the last time we go, but I cannot be certain.  This time, we went camping with just my side of the family, as opposed to the usual Maliblahblah gang.

And instead of berry picking, river floating, rock sliding, hiking, wood cutting, and the like, we went shopping.

Because that’s what my people do.  We shop.

First, we stopped at a flea market.  It was grody.  David almost left with more rabbits and rabbit cages, because apparently that is what we are lacking in life.  But the price was not right, so we did not take more rabbits to our home.  Darn.  People sell anything and everything at the flea market.  From old pens to books to tools to clothes to rabbits.  It was eclectic.

Brother Danny wanted a bike.  Someone was selling one for $15, which is a steal, I don’t care who you are.  So he went to buy it and his wife gasped in horror when he told her he intended to pay full price.  She’s a barterer.  Yes.  She’s one of THOSE people.  She went over there and asked if the gal would take $10 instead of $15.  The gal said yes!  But then Tonya felt badly, so she threw in an extra $2 just cuz.

David thought that was HI-larious.  David is a barterer, too.  He’s of the insane kind.  You know.  The kind that tend to offend people.

“Oh.  I see you would like $50 for this blah-blah-blah tractor part.  I’ll give you $8.”

Anyways.  Brother Danny got a bike.

See David there?  I will bet you one million dollars that he is checking craigslist on his phone for more rabbit deals.  Because he wishes to torture me.

Next on our shopping adventures, we went to the local dump.  I know what you are thinking, dear readers.

“Could this Lumberjill get any cooler?”

But this dump has a special feature.  It has a mall.  A mall where people can drop off items they don’t want, and anyone can take them.  For FREE.

And I could tell you that I didn’t clean out all 10 of the super clean 3-ring binders that were sitting on that shelf.  But we all know I would be lying.

My mom gave Little Dude a stuffed rabbit from the dump mall.  I said that was disgusting.  She said it was fine.

Who’s right?

The correct answer is:  Taylor.  Taylor is right.

And then we went to garage sales and that was that.

Camping shopping.  Try it.

So, then my dad got all into David’s rabbit nonsense, so he had to surf the web on his Inter-phone and this was just hilarious and I knew that you would all enjoy it:

Check out his glasses.  Awesome.

We went on a hike.

David looks happy and blessed.

We went fishing.

David looks happy and blessed.  Maybe somebody needs to post a fantastic Craigslist rabbit deal  . . . stat!

My kids get really dirty whilst camping.  Ask me how my laundry pile is looking.

Alright.  I really must go lesson plan.  Because I am super prepared for life.

PS-For the record, I did catch my husband reading my blog on his smart Inter-phone when we were in the trailer.

Remember?  He subscribed via email?  Remember?

This is what he thought of it:

1.  My husband went behind my back and purchased glasses for Handsome Dude from a new optical place.

2.  This news was more than I could bear.  I wept and mourned over my loss.  You see, dear readers, I have been going to the same place for my kids’ glasses since 2005.  I know them all by their first names.  I’ve sent them Christmas cards.

They feign to be enchanted and tickled pink when I bring in problems, such as this:

Who WOULDN’T mourn over the loss of people such as that?  I told David that in my heart, I shall always remain true to my people.  He was unmoved.

3.  Yesterday, whilst in a flurry and getting the morning activities done, I saw a pair of the inferior, new glasses and tried to put them on my Handsome Dude.  He screamed.  He cried.  He said they were “owie” glasses and he wanted his old ones.

You know.  The ones from MY people.

I would be remiss if I said I wasn’t pleased as punch.

4.  Want to know what book I picked up at the library yesterday?

(source)

Oh, yeah.  Prepare to be wowed.

Do you even know what WordPress is, readers?  Do you?  Do you?  Hmmm?

5.  There is a whole world of Dummies books out there!  I used my noggin’ and put this one on hold at the library, as a gesture of love and support for my darling husband.

(source)

He will surely be delighted at my thoughtfulness.

6.  No.  I have no idea why the rabbit book image is larger than the WordPress book image.  The Internet is hard for me.

It’s probably because I wasn’t breastfed.

7.  I let my girls start a blog yesterday.  This was a mistake.  They must check their blog for comments and see if anything is new and wonder how their blog is doing and if their blog misses them and “Mommy can we see our blog again?” and “Daddy, did you know we are bloggers now?” and they are sure they have already some money.

Their blog is private between them and three other girls and will be used to talk about what they are reading.

But, yes.  Let’s check and see if your awesomeness has been discovered, girls, and millions upon millions of peoples are reading your words that were typed out by your mother.

Besides.  Who would ever obsess over things like numbers of visitors and comments on a silly blog?

Certainly not I.

8.  Handsome Dude is a creator of tall tales lately.  When I picked him up from the bus stop yesterday, this was his latest one:

Me:  Did you have fun?

HD (short for Handsome Dude.  Please try to focus):  Yes.  My guy (translation-his bus driver) needed my help.

Me:  Oh yeah?

HD:  Yeah.  He didn’t a-member (remember) how to get the bus to the school.  So, he handed me a map and said I needed to tell him where to go.

Me:  Really?

HD:  Yup.  And so I said turn left here and go over that weally big hill and he found it.

And me, being the old woman that I now am, did not even call him out on his lie.  Because I thought it was darling.

I’m 30 now.  These are the things that entertain me.

9.  Yesterday, instead of sleeping, Little Dude created a fort with all the bedding in the downstairs instead of sleeping.

And I was just so glad he was quiet and let us do school that I didn’t even care and tell him that he should be sleeping instead.

I’m 30 now.  I’m too tired to do things the right way.

10.  I am linking up with Kira at Kissing the Joy today for ‘Fess Up Friday.  She knows a guy who used to be friends with my husband in the high school days and I believe they both went tanning together.

Well.  Probably not together together.   Because that would be . . . odd.  But I think they must of both went tanning in high school because they were both always so bronzed in February.

And who is bronze in February?  Just the Fake and Bake-ers.

Shoot!  I just remembered.  My husband now subscribes to this blog via email.

It’s true, dear readers.  And I can hardly believe it myself.  Maybe he might be perturbed if I tell people he tanned with a high school buddy.

He probably just deletes the emails once they come into his inbox anyways.

Happy Friday!

When I picked Handsome Dude up at the bus stop on Tuesday, he was nothing but smiles.  He informed me immediately that he was a good listener, had lots and lots of best friends, and he sat right by his awesome bus driver, Jeff’s, back, which is apparently the coolest spot in the whole world.  And Jeff is ALSO his best friend.  Because, of course he is.  Why not?

Remember his ginormous backpack?

The school sent him home with a new one and asked if he could bring that one instead.  Take that as you will.

Oh!  I just heard a rabbit scream.  Yes.  I live in the middle of nowhere with scores of rabbits.  Don’t you?

Did you know that rabbits scream?  It’s true.  And it’s disturbing.  It’s kind of rare, but it happens. Think of the most horrid and atrocious sound you have ever heard.  A sound that creeps you out and gives you the peepee shivers.

Go ahead.  Think about it.  I’ll wait . . .

Ok.  I guarantee you that a rabbit screaming is ten times worse.  Rabbits can be disturbing.  The mamas rip out their hair to make the nests for the babies.  We didn’t know this at first and my girls were bawling:

“Mom!  Norma Jean Riley’s hair is missing and she is bleeding!”

Yes.  Bleeding.  They take the hair-ripping-out activity to the extreme.  Also.  If you, in your ignorance,  leave a buck (ha!  look at me and my knowledgeable self!)  in with the doe after you breed it and let it lodge there until the babies are born, the buck just might feast on his babies.

Ask me how I know.

Rabbits.

Not for the faint of heart.  Or for the girl who wonders how the got stuck in Ruralville and just wants to get a latte and go shopping.

But I digress.

Awana started up for the kids last night.  This was the first year that all FOUR of the kids will be going.

Let us stop and do a happy dance.

Little Dude was extremely excited, announcing to all peoples he would meet that he was going to “cubbies.”  (Cubbies is the Awana program for his age)

Handsome Dude was in Cubbies all last year and would oft sing the Cubbies song.  It starts off, “We are Awana Cubbies, we’re happy all day long . . . ” And Handsome Dude, the seasoned Cubbie that he is, was being all big-brother-ish to Little Dude while we were getting ready to go and shouted:

“Come on, Cokey!  Let’s go to Awana Cubbies, where we’re happy all day long!”

Cute.  And Cokey is his name for Little Dude.  No.  We did not name our son Cokey  Maliblahblah.  Who do you think we are?  Weird, unsocialized homeschoolers who moved out to the middle of nowhere to live with rabbits and deer and turkeys?

Alright.  I have almost had enough coffee in my system to greet the day.  Today we will be starting Latin.  Because, why not?

Oh!  And I must pack for camping.  Does this surprise you?

No.  No it does not.

Later, dudes.

Handsome Dude started preschool today.  There is one he can go to here in one of the smaller towns, so we decided to take that opportunity.

The boys says things like: “It makes me sausage, you know?” So.  We figured he might need a little extra push in life.

I kid!  I jest!

I feel very stretched keeping up with a 2nd grader and a 3rd grader and wasn’t sure I could give Handsome Dude the attention he might need to get him ready for kindergarten next year, so, its off to preschool for him.

I drove him in this morning, and we were a bit early, so I decided to stop at the store.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up!):  Ok.  But we WEALLY need to hurry.  My girl will be waiting for me.

His girl would be his teacher.  And that’s why I love him.

Could we find a bigger backpack for him?  I ask you?

He was so excited.

HD:  Mom!  Thank you for letting me go somewhere WITHOUT you!

Fantastic.  But right before I left, he started to get all teary-eyed.  He didn’t cry though, but he looked so small and nervous.

My baby!

So, now, I am feeling all sad and sentimental and wondering why I don’t have a pause button in life.

Therefore, since I am feeling all sad, we are going to make a list about all the things we (and when I say “we” I , of course, mean you and I because I choose to believe he melts your heart as much as he melts mine) love about Handsome Dude.

1.  He has always had an old man face.

2.  He was my easiest baby.  No joke!

3.  He was the world’s worst toddler.  No joke.

4.  Oh!  What’s that?!  You don’t believe me?  Pray tell,  did your child chase after his sisters with the toilet bowl brush?   I didn’t think so.

5.  Corn on the cob makes him sausage, you know.

6.  He uses his made up word “wee” all the time.  “Mommy, I’m wee hungry.”

7.  He calls a block of cheddar cheese “mac and cheese.”  And once when I was making a grilled cheese sandwich for him, he asked if he could have a “boy cheese sandwich” with lots of mac and cheese.

8.  It takes a lot of coffee and a quick mind to be the mother of this child.

9.  One week, David was working late every night and hadn’t seen the kids.  Handsome Dude wailed to me one morning:

“Mom!  When is dad ever going to kiss my cheek again?”

10.  When he is at preschool, it is REALLY quiet in our house.  And homeschooling is a breeze.

Alright!  It’s time to go pick him up!  Don’t worry.  I have had two cups of coffee, so I am ready to translate all of his intriguing sentences.

Happy Tuesday!

PS-The next time we get a new female rabbit (or a DOE, if you are a super professional rabbit person like me), I am going to name her Scarlett O-HARE-A.

PPS-Ha!  You cannot deny that is funny

PPPS- Too bad I don’t know how to tell if the rabbit is a girl or a boy.

We  had a bit of stress this weekend.  We have this car, you see.  Actually, all menfolk we encounter call it a truck, so I have no idea what I am driving.  I think I would call it an SUV.  But whatever.  It is a Ford Excursion.

ANYWAYS, our car/truck has this annoying habit of randomly thinking someone is trying to steal it and will go into “theft mode.”

Theft mode is,basically, complete lock down.

 The car/truck simply won’t start.  There is nothing you can do.

So, on Saturday, we go to the gas station.  Everyone and their mothers have decided to fuel up at this particular station.. We spent all of our money, plus our kids’ college funds, on filling up our thirsty beast of a rig, and David goes to start the car/truck.

The car/truck, thinking it is soooo smart, feels that David is a felon and goes immediately into theft mode.  And the best part is that we are towing a utility trailer, therefore, we are blocking the pump behind us.  Which, I am sure, was very much appreciated by all the fellow gas-filler-uppers, as well as their mothers.

You may ask: “Taylor!  Why were you towing a utility trailer?!”

Silly readers.  Have you met my husband?  We are off to see a guy about some rabbit feed.  And, apparently, we will now be buying it in bulk.

David is literally sweating.  If it was me driving all by myself, I would have been crying and wailing and sobbing.  But since David is there, I feel no fear.  Instead, I just sit in the passenger seat, checking Facebook on my phone, and cracking jokes.

“Having a little trouble there?”

“Need me to take a look under the hood?”

Fun Fact:  I can’t even open the hood.

Finally, he gets it started.  I mention that we should probably go to the Ford dealer and have them check out the sitch.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who remembers what “sitch” is. 

David disagrees, and off we go to see the rabbit feed guy.  And after we purchased our 28 tons of rabbit feed, guess what?

Our car/truck wouldn’t start.

I win!

So, David had to call his brother Alex to come and tow us to the Ford dealer.  Once my dad heard of our plans he said, and I quote:

“I am coming to get you.  I do not want my grandchildren riding around in a towed vehicle.”

And I was like, “Dad, have you heard about my life?”

Just kidding.  Let’s let him think his grandchildren have never ridden in a towed vehicle, shall we?

So, we got to go to my parents’ house and David went to the Ford dealer, where the car/truck started up just fine and David was charged many dollars to hear that our car/truck was fine and he was a big, fat liar.  Lame.

Let’s move on!

Next, we went on the boat.  Don’t be too impressed. We like to call it “the boat,” almost as if we had some sort of ownership in it.  But, no.  It is David’s sister’s boat.  We don’t have a boat.

But we do have 28 tons of rabbit feed in a car/truck that always thinks we are stealing it.  Does that impress you?

David pleads with me to join him on the tube.

This is me hoping to not get my hair wet.

And . . .

this is me holding onto the tube with a Vulcan Death Grip to ensure my hair not getting wet.  And I don’t even know what a Vulcan is, nor if it has a death grip.  But it sounds appropriate, does it not?

Sunday.

On Sunday, we went to a meeting at church.  And you will never BELIEVE what happened.

The car/truck thought we were trying to steal it again.

Oh, my lands, it is annoying.  I wish I could have knocked on Mr. Ford Dealer Repairman’s Door and given him a piece of my mind.

But, anyways, we made it to the meeting and yada yada yada, here is the whole point of me telling you about that:

We had to take our lovely children with us.

So, at one point during the meeting, the leader is talking and Handsome Dude whisper/shouts:

“Mom!  I have to go POOOOOOOP!”

You knew I was going to talk about bathroom stuff, didn’t you, dear readers?  We all know that is why you come here.  You just can’t survive if I don’t tell you the latest.

As luck would have it, the bathroom is right near where the leader is speaking.

So.  My Handsome Dude is in the bathroom and I hear this very loud moaning.

David shoots me a look of death from across the room.

You know this look, don’t you, dear readers?  The “do something about YOUR poo-poo-moaning kid NOW!” look?

So, I open the door and tell him to poop quieter.

“MOM!  I CAN’T!  IT’S THE OWIE KIND OF POOPIE!”

And he continued to moan and groan for dear life in that bathroom for all the world to hear. The leader, who could hear all of this, just kept on going and didn’t embarass me or nothing.

Bless her heart.

***

This past weekend marked the 10th Anniversary of September 11.  I just wanted to say thank you to all the men, women, and families who sacrifice so much to keep our country safe.

My friend, Erin, who I have met through blogging, is getting ready to say goodbye to her husband for several months.  He is leaving to serve our country overseas.  They have two young children.

If you have an extra moment, please stop by Erin’s blog (I know you will love it!) and offer her some encouragement and thanks.  She’s a gem.  Thank you!

I am supposed to be doing some lesson planning for the classes I am teaching on Monday for our new homeschooling co-op.

Instead, I am sitting here nursing my caffeine addiction trying to recover from the field trip I just took my kids on.

This is my first year in this co-op.  I know not one, single person.  I am sure I am going to impress the co-op peoples’ socks off, seeing as how I am using my planning time to blog.

We went on a field trip today to an old mission/church.  Now, this church is about 90 minutes away from my house.  About halfway there, I have to get on THE freeway.

Yes.  There is only ONE freeway in our whole section of the universe.  Everyone just calls it THE freeway.  I was born in California and we would oft go visit our relations from that area and, oh my stars, how do those people live with all of those different freeways?

“Yeah.  You’re gonna take the 5 to the 14 and then catch the 220 till you get to the 7 and then merge onto the 86 before meeting up with the 395.”

Makes me need more coffee.  No!  Here in these parts, we just say THE freeway.  And we like it that way.

So.  I get on THE freeway and it takes me a minute but I realize I am going the wrong way.  I am going west, when, alas, I need to be going east.  Of course.  There is just ONE freeway and I get it wrong.  I cannot wait to tell David.  It’s going to make his night.  David was born into this world with a GPS Navigator pre-installed in his brain.

What was I trying to talk about?  Oh!  The field trip.

(Ask me how my co-op lesson planning is going.)

So.  We are going the right way and it is a L-O-N-G ride and I got to thinking about that whole scenario with my dad and the flowers and the ladies apparently inquiring of his relationship status and I got to laughing.

Why?  Because it is humorous and it reminded me of a story about Auntie Datenut.  Auntie Datenut is my mom’s sister and she came to stay with my parents for Christmas one year.  At one point, we were all going to watch a movie when my mom did what she does every night and said:

“Grant!  Can you pop some popcorn?”

And my dad always looks so bewildered and confused, almost as if he did not know one could pop corn, and he scratches his head and says:

“Anything else, dear?”

But the best part of this is that my dad, for my entire life, always wears a robe at night.  Always.  Yet he never has the tie thing.  So, he walks around every night, holding his robe closed.

Every.

Single.

Night.

Because who needs the tie that comes conveniently looped in the robe?

So, there he went, up the stairs, holding his robe, to make his wife the popped corn.  And Auntie Datenut looked at my mom and I and said,

“I’m sorry.  But Grant is just a handsome guy!  I’ve always thought so!”

I nearly died a thousand deaths.

Field Trip!  Focus, Taylor!

So, I get to the field trip after driving many miles EAST on THE freeway.  And it was fine and lovely and informative.

Since I am 30 now and all, I marched right over to the guy who gave the presentation and told him that he did a great job and I really liked it.

If I was in my 20’s, I would have done no such thing.

Also:  Since I have turned 30, my arms have grown a new layer of fat that jiggles whenever I stir something vigorously.

But that is neither here nor there.

The people who built the old mission took HUCKLEBERRIES and squished them to make a dye and colored the ceiling with it.

You don’t squish huckleberries!  My inlaws would be aghast.

Speaking of huckleberries, we only harvested about 6 cups this year.  David and I decided to be all martyr-ish and offer our bounty to David’s grandma who makes huckleberry pie for the holidays.

It’s what my in-laws live for.

So, I tell David’s sister, Lisa, that we have some berries for Grandma.

Her response?

“Oh.  That’s ok.  I have at least 3 gallons from previous years that I save in case of emergencies.”

3 gallons?  Emergencies?  She’s a hoarder!

This is their passion, my inlaws.  Their passion for the huckleberries.

This post was really scattered.  Surprisingly, I have not gotten anywhere with my lesson planning.

Off I go!

A Thursday Night List

1.  I have no idea how to write a blog.  I am in over my head.  I mean, of course I can write nonsense.  But I really don’t get all that other stuff like code and widget and plugin and rss and whatnot.

2.  Explosive diarrhea can and will disrupt school.  Several times.

3.  Daisy Mae still writes 9 like this: P

4.  Granola is delicious. (Thanks Jason and Amy)

5.  My blog wasn’t updating in Google Reader.  Apparently my posts are too large.  Lame.  Do you know what Google Reader is?  Do you?  Hmm?

6.  Not to tootle my own horn or anything, but Sister Meagan, who prides herself on being the most knowledgeable in our family regarding The Internets, had no clue what a Google Reader is.

7.  I got all handsome on filling her in.  Consider her informed.

8.  The girls talked me into watching Star Wars with them last night for the first time in my life.  All I know about Star Wars is that I don’t want to see it.  And there is a golden guy and a guy that looks like a Shop Vac.

9.  I lasted about 3.7 seconds and went back to trying to fix my Google Reader.

10.  If I mention Google Reader again, my dad, who I am assuming is reading this post, is going to start talking to himself and close his computer with authority.  Because he is my dad and he can.

“What IS this Google-ty Reader Mumbo Jumbo she is talking about?”

11.  Handsome Dude is starting preschool next week.  This is weird, because he is still a newborn.

12.  I enjoyed your theories as to why the ladies gave my dad flowers.

Dear Dad,

The general consensus is this:  People feel like the ladies at the restaurant were flirting with you.  And the reason they asked you to give the flowers to, and I quote, “your lovely wife” is because they wanted to see if you were already taken.

Try not to get too conceited or anything,

Taylor

13.  My dad totally thwarted the ladies’ plan.  He just smiled, took the flowers and said,

“Thanks!  But she’s my daughter!” and walked away.

So bummer for them.  They were out some flowers and did not even find out if my dad was available, the heartbreaker that he is.

13.  Granola is delicious.  But it has a lot of calories.  Such a shame.

14.  Apparently my blog gets mad if I center posts.  This was part of my . . . wait for it . . . Google Reader problem.

15.  Do you think I can mention Google Reader more?  Do you think anyone is still reading this?

16.  I am really quite dumb when it comes to this stuff.

Don’t lose heart!

I have placed a hold at the library for the book WordPress for Dummies.  I am going to wow you all soon.  Just you wait.

17.  I wonder if they make a book called Google Reader for Dummies.

18.  That’s right.  I mentioned it again.

19.  Both girls have already cried this week during school.  Take that as you will.

20.  Thank you to everyone on Facebook who helped me with my GOOGLE READER issues.  You guys are all the bees knees.

21.  A snake ran by my toes today.  I was just trying to get the mail.

22.  Rebecca D posted a trippy story about me.  But, and don’t be too surprised, I am having trouble getting the link to work.

So.  You are going to have to copy and paste this link:

http://highmaintenanceaspirations.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-is-one-strange-cyber-world.html

Before you read it, I must assure you it is just an uber strange coincidence and don’t you go thinking I’m all that AND a bag of chips. You should go say hi to her.  I do not know her in real life.  But I still think you should say hi.  She was the first person to inspire the COW, which is supposed to be the Comment of the Week.  And I am really bad about updating that.  As you are all aware.

23.  Attention All Jam-Makers:  Share your thoughts on pectin.  Does it matter if you use liquid or powdered?  Please advise.

24.  I have 2 number 13’s.  That’s a shame.  Now I look ignorant.

25.  Do you know how much work it would take to go back and re-number them?  Not gonna do it.

26.  I really hope people can see this post.

27.  From their Google Readers.

28.  I am growing my bangs out.

29.  Goodnight!

PS-In all seriousness, if you are reading this in Google Reader, please let me know so I can jump for joy that my posts are making it through.  Thanks!