If you have not yet grown up, and love to watch big machines dig holes in city streets, be jealous… I get this view for the whole summer, probably fall and likely into winter.
Leaving home in the dark through the back door is not as dangerous as it looks (if you count steps, anyway). And turn the torch app on…
Very soon now…
My baby will bring forth her own baby into the world.
His name is Carson Anthony Ward, the already so-much-loved progeny of Kyla Ward (nee Becker) and Colton Ward.
I am already in love with him. Carson, that is, not Colton; although as sons-in-law go, I’d rank him fairly high.
Carson is due on the 22nd of June, but I have been adamantly maintaining that he will make his appearance on the 10th, so I’d guess I’d better stick by that.
I can’t wait to meet him!
The cute little girl-cat-turned-boy-cat-that-has-grown-to-unforeseen-monstrous-proportions-considering-he’s-maybe-only-9-months-old has got himself a new favourite activity.
He eats my clothes.
It started with socks and underwear.
Then he moved up to pajama pants and the straps of my camisole shirts (followed quickly by the bellies of my camisole shirts), the sleeves of my long-sleeved (ha!) jersey shirts that are part of my work uniform, and the ribbing along the bottom of both of my sweat shirts.
I don’t have a lot of clothes – on purpose. I’ve been “smallering” now for years, and my wardrobe consists mostly of two full sets of work uniforms and maybe three full sets of my “non-work uniforms”, because, especially in the winter, no one can see what I’m wearing, so I just wear the same damned thing all the time.
And now the F-ing cat (newly re-named yet again, this time to “Mothra”) has eaten a hole in one of my two pairs of jeans.
The weather had better warm up fast and soon, at this rate.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “Cake by the Ocean” – DNCE
I’ve had some serious “Writer’s Block” issues for the last… oh… millennium or so. I’ve come to the conclusion over the last several months that it’s not writer’s block so much as my own stubbornness that’s keeping me from writing.
But then the above event happened. In slow motion. Just like in the movies.
I had just sat down determined to Write Something, Dammit!, and was doing my “squat-sit” thing a la` this post, when I felt an odd sinking/sliding sensation, and realized that I was slowly oozing downward at a strange angle.
Eventually, I found myself in a ball on the floor, staring up at the underside of my desk.
When I managed to untangle the legs of the chair from the legs of myself, I tried to see the funny side – I kind of wished I had wired CCTV into the Belfry so I could see whether or not I had actually dissolved the chair in slow-motion or if it just felt like it – but I was just a little pissed that when I finally sat my ass down to Write Something, Dammit!, all I managed to accomplish was to collapse my only chair.
By the time I finally located the matching, unsquashed-flat chair in the lower apartment and steal it from the guy that actually lives there, I didn’t feel like writing anymore.
Ah well…. with luck, the new replacement will last me as long as the old chair did – roughly 9 years. Maybe I’ll have this book written by then, too.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “7 Years” – Lukas Graham
The Les Becker Bookshop.
This video has solved every problem I have ever had.
Random Song-for-the-Day: “Lunatic Fringe” – Red Rider
The Les Becker Bookshop.