There is no post today. I'm too busy trying to learn how to be a normal human bean. Maybe there's a post in here after all, between the epic battles and last-minute jitters, and why in the hell someone would pick right this month to quit smoking. Probably the same reason another person picked right this month to go back on her meds, and oh, aren't we two peas in a pod, two licks with one stick. Sometimes I fear for everyone's sanity on days like today.
Loch arrives tomorrow, slightly ahead of schedule. Escaping. Escaping is an art form in this case, he is fed up, took a super five day long weekend and will spend it with us. Ben is being difficult, I am being worse than difficult, and thank heavens we have Ruth and Henry around to teach us all how to behave like adults.
Because sometimes we are children. And not the good kind.
In other news, the ice cream parlour is open for the summer, the very last pile of snow from where I was making a sled-mountain at the bottom of the driveway is gone and Butterfield knocked me right into the mud. I raked all the dirt and sand and trash right into the road this morning because the street cleaners will be around soon and for the past two years I would bag it all. I felt daring and scofflawish. I felt weird doing that but try bagging sand, guys. PJ came by and said things looked great, that I was doing a good job putting winter away and ushering in the warmer times.
I nodded. I surely fucking am. I have help though. Gothboy does a good job putting up patio lights.
