Thursday, January 9, 2014

Please stick with me...

I am in a dry spell. Writer's block is not necessarily the right term for it, but creativity block might be better. Two weeks of being with my children in the house in various forms of sniffles has caused me to hit a dry spell of experiences. I have written about our obsession(ongoing)with Emergency! on Netflix. I have written to probably a nauseating extent about our new puppy. Can't help it. She is cute and a big pill all at the same time. Right now she smells like a can of mandarin oranges that spilled on a slightly damp dog. We got new wipes that are basically like baby wipes for dogs that smell like mandarin oranges so we don't have to traumatize her right now with a bath as well as a new house and children who want to hold her like a baby all the blasted time. Cough cough. Sorry...got off track there. Tonight I could write about the fact that my oldest child's math teacher yelled at the class about a shortage of graphing calculators for their classroom that the kids use in class and then return at the end of class thus rendering his whole welcome back to school after Christmas speech pointless since he was not welcoming. We spent an hour this evening trying to find one of the blasted things to buy so he would have one less calculator to complain about. But I won't bother you with that. I also won't bother you with my indying love for crock pot liners, especially after cooking a pork loin all day for bbq sandwiches and the clean up was pretty much nonexistent.

Forgive my creatively dry spell. While I should probably skip a few days between posts, I have gotten into a habit. I feel like I am missing a step in my evening routine if I do not put something out there. Don't worry though. Material rich days are a-comin'. We will be getting into a full blown kitchen/breakfast room/bathroom remodel in the very near future. Four years+ is long enough to go without cabinet doors or something other than luan. Should be an interesting time.


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1 comment:

  1. As someone who can not write her way out of a paper bag, I have no room to complain. Just thought I'd mention there were a few times you mentioned some story or another something you would write about later. Maybe one of them could "prime the pump"? (My Momma says that, farm girl growing up)

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