Matt's homemade thing-a-ma-jig for brewing beer.  Impressive

Matt attaching a hose he ran through the kitchen window to the beer thing-a-ma-jiggy. This better be some good beer.

The bathroom is complete- we can pee in it and everything!

Recycling Update:  As you can see, plastic and aluminum are taking over our kitchen.  I truly wish they picked up recycling more than just every other Wednesday.

Shave Secret- this is a product Matt began using two weeks ago, and he swears it is the best thing ever.  He uses it instead of shaving cream, and it prevents razor burn.   (WalMart)

My new nightly ritual- coffee so that I can stay up late enough to tuck my kids in bed and emu oil for my feet so that Lucas can stop pointing at the cracks in my heels and asking "How you have that boo boo, Mama?"

Try It- I'm not trying to push products on anyone, but when I know something works, I've got to share.  Matt loves his Shave Secret, and I love my Blue Goo.  Try it and you might like it.  If you try it, you just might like it. (nods to all you Yo Gabba Gabba fans)

Home-  Josie's been sick.  Doctor says ear infection.  After 4 doses of antibiotics, she was still running a 104 degree fever this afternoon.  In fact, I would say she was sicker today than she was when Matt took her to the doctor Thursday afternoon.  Meanwhile, Matt spent the majority of his day getting his homemade brew going.  I'm not quite sure how he did it- grains, water, hop, a hose, copper tubing.  All I know is that the house now smells like sweet potatoes.  Lucas and Hayden enjoyed a fun day at Grandma's and Big Daddy's.  And I vacuumed baseboards and chinchilla turds.  Productive.  I did catch an episode of Curb Appeal the Block and Dear Genevieve, so I can't complain.  Tomorrow I plan on drinking 8 cups of coffee for breakfast and watching a tearjerker of a movie, all while the kids take turns asking me for things.  I'm convinced that they enjoy seeing me get up, not sure why, but that has to be it.

Work-  Just as I'm convinced that my biological children enjoy seeing me get up from a sitting position, I am equally convinced that my school children enjoy seeing the veins pulse in my forehead.  And that is all I have to say about that.

Dreams-  Who needs em? 

Food- Slow cooked Chicken Curry.  Again, one more thing I must insist you try.

Music- Erykah Badu- I love her.  Always have, always will.  Here is one of my favorite songs.

It's funny. What relaxes one person, may make another person completely agitated.  For example, as I sit here typing away, Matt has fallen into a deep slumber brought on by the Native American Spiritual Chants he insist on listening to each night.  I've mentioned my distaste for this music several times, and I make great effort to show my displeasure by flip-flopping in bed like a fish out of water, but I don't think he gets it.  He thinks I'm being overly dramatic. And to that I say "Whateva!"  So, once I hear him sawing logs, I sneak and turn off the music.  Nature sounds are fine.  I love the sounds of waves crashing or thunderstorms, but an eerie whistling flute just doesn't do it for me. There was a time when I could sleep soundly with the television on.  In fact, I preferred it, but not any more.  I find that I can go to sleep with it on just fine, but then right around 2:00 AM I awake to find the volume level so incredibly high that I can't move or think fast enough to find the remote.  I have this moment of panic, like maybe my eardrums might rupture or something worse- what, I'm not sure- but bad.  My preferred sleeping conditions are as follows- no light, no music, no television, a ceiling fan for cooling the room, a floor fan for creating a wonderful dull hum.  Our queen size bed does not lend itself for the kind of sprawling I yearn for, but I do my best.  The other night Matt and I coined a new term "mooning."  We often try spooning, but I get fidgety.  I have a toe bending thing.  Weird- I know.  Anyways, one of us always ends up turning the opposite direction, leaving us bottom to bottom.  This is mooning.  Not nearly as intimate as spooning, but touching nonetheless.  Well, all this talk of sleep has got me feeling a little drowsy.  I think it is time to turn off the music and turn on the floor fan.  Good night.  Sleep tight.  Don't let the bed bugs bite!
This one's for you, Matt.  Enjoy!

Thinking about my Mema tonight.  Earlier this evening I watched her sleep like a baby and was reminded of the sweet lullabies she would hum as she rocked me in her velour chair.  The fact that I remember her rocking me is probably evidence that I was too old to be rocked.  But grandmothers don't care about things like that.  Mema is in the hosipital tonight.  She is sick.  She won't eat.  She won't drink.  She won't speak.  Mema has dementia, and she doesn't know who I am, but she smiled when I kissed her forehead goodbye, and I bet she would smile if she heard this song.

supermoon



Because sometimes he has just had ENOUGH!



Anyone who suffers from depression knows, sometimes you don't realize you're in it until you're in it. I'm not in it.  I checked.  Once a month I conduct an emotional examination while stopped at the red light on 2nd Street.  If I punch the gas pedal when the light turns green, I'm not depressed.  If I hesitate before taking that left turn which leads me to work, depressed.  Not scientific and not definitive, but a very good indicator.  If a tear forms in the corner of my right eye during that brief hesitation before turning left- it is conclusive, depressed.  I've had a good year.  Far fewer left turn hesitations and no tears in the corner of my right eye.  Bad days are just bad days, not bad months.  I give credit to the meds, but I also give myself credit.  I no longer fear my illness.  I don't hunker down and wait for the bombs to go off.  When the enemy is in sight, I refer to my battle plan, and so far I'm winning. 

I should be grading papers or writing lesson plans, but hey, I'm off the clock.  Instead, I think I'll use my free time to fill you in on my latest and greatest discovery- blue goo Cracked Heel.  I've battled heel fissures for most of my adult life.  I've spent countless hours sanding and massaging my heels only to have them return to there naturally callused state within hours.  I have been using blue goo for a week and immediately I noticed a difference.  The emu oil/beeswax concoction is somewhat greasy, but it absorbs into the skin very quickly.  It's a miracle really.  I wish to goodness I would have taken a before and after picture.  You would be amazed!  I purchased blue goo from Walmart, but I'm sure you can get it just about anywhere.  If I could find a blue goo bumper sticker, I would put it on my car.  That is how much I love this stuff!