Life Served Sweet

Found this incredible piece of art at the forge. I think I'll have a portrait made to hang over the gaping yaw fireplace.

Speaking of the yaw, remember it? Hubby dubbed it the gaping yaw, and the name stuck. It's pretty gaping and bleak.

I've been hanging on to the old gas heater from the original house at the farm for years. I never had a place to put it, but now it lives in the gaping yaw.
La says this thing is so ugly. I think it's way cool.


Going back to the farm now means the tedious chore of sorting through junk and trash, sleeping on the floor, and eating pop tarts and PB&J sandwiches. We still haven't talked to the neighbors about buying the place. I have a feeling they'll turn it down. We'll then have to paint, replace flooring, and make the yard pretty in order to sell. Man, I really don't want to go through all that, one weekend at a time.

We made the next-to-last Driller game last weekend. They advertised a magnanamous fantasmagorical fireworks show. I couldn't tell that it was so bigger and better than the others, but it was still fireworks!Work is plugging along. I sit in my office at the end of the hall, no one bothers me, everyone ignores me, I've even gotten locked in a couple of times. Yep, the last key holder leaves without clearing the building, and I'm still there. I'm not technically locked in, but I can't dead bolt the door from the outside, so I have to call someone to come back and lock up again. Now, who knows whether they actually come back. At that point, it's not my problem.

I'm dying to hit a fabric store and drop some dollars on pretty colors. I was gonna call Aunt Jo tonight to see what she was doing this weekend, and again, I let time slip by and it's too late (by my mother's rules, which were pounded into me relentlessly during my youth).