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Road Trip. We’ve all safely returned from the SD road trip. We missed Mike (sorry, Mike!) but caught everyone else. The family gathering for my side of the family was too big for my tastes; I have a hard time dealing with that many people at once, unless I can ride herd on a basement […]

Tax day. It might help to kick the cat. If you have a cat. Seriously, though, when payday and tax day fall on the same day, it’s hard to be as bitter as you could be. The little accountant on my shoulder (no, I don’t listen too often) releases his breath. Phew. I don’t think

Mmmm…Chocolate. We may have to go out on a chocolate outing.

Curious George: as Ray continues to read books, I discover that curious George receives much more cooing, chattering, and pseudo-counting (she can count up to one real well) than any other book she’s read so far today.

Road Trip. Going to SD (various locations) over Easter, Thursday through Monday. Hm…where is that old box of Mindtrap cards?

Taxes. While I sit here, finishing up the taxes Lee completed for the most part this morning, Ray sits beside me in her Ray-sized chair and reads books. She doesn’t have a big enough lap for the larger books to sit steadily, so turning pages is a process: hang onto the page you’re going to

Tea. Amazing how a good cup of decaf green tea can perk you right up when you’re not a caffeine addict. In a non-perky way, of course.

Dream. I dreamed that I had just finished spring-cleaining the house we’re in when we moved. Ugh. Well, it was a cool house, the kind of house with a floorplan that allows you to get lost the first time you’re in it. A wandering house. I was mad at everyone else (because I was just

Blame it on tax day. This morning I took a paintball gun and shot the little old ladies selling subscriptions to The Gazette in the lobby of the grocery store. Then I picked up a copy of the Indy. No, I didn’t. But I wanted to. Cutting letters to make them look idiotic so they

Foul mood. Man, I’m in a foul mood today. Man, my foul moods just ain’t what they used to be. Ah, for those angst-ridden years of yore… Many thanks to my spouse and daughter, who make having a foul mood an enjoyable change of pace.