But, clearly, that doesn't seem to stop me from posting anyway. (And who knew that Garth Brooks knew about blogs so long ago? I didn't.)
I was thinking that there are only so many things I can write about. The vast ocean of blog posts I could write about, I don't, because it would be wrong.
Oh, so wrong.
But, you should know, they are all up there in my head, clamoring to get out. You could almost consider that a warning not to get on my bad side.
Suppose I wrote about our work and the cah-razy people we run into on a day to day basis.(Most of the time you would be bored to death and, frankly, I don't want your death on my conscience.)
Suppose I mentioned that a client once told my husband that he was cute. And then asked our son (OUR SON, for goodness sake) how old his Dad was and then she let it slip what good shape he was in. Yeah, that might have been my Aunt Dorothy that was asking, but still.
Frankly, if we work with people at all, we are going to run into difficult people. And they are going to run into us, And we will be THEIR difficult people.
It is the circle of life.
Nor, it seems, should I blog too often about family. This can get me in T-R-O-U-B-L-E. (I really hope you appreciate the time and effort it takes me to type that out like that.)
Such as, I should probably NOT mention that my daughter, Amy, is coming up and bringing her boyfriend for dinner tonight.
This is so we to get to know him better.
Yes, we have met him, but never really sat down and "visited." If you know what I mean.
Naturally, Rod and I have questions
When there is a lull in the convo, we can casually ask him questions such as " What is your favorite color?" or "What is your relationship with Jesus like?" or "Which do you prefer: Thai or Mexican food?" or "What are
|I mentioned Garth Brooks so I thought I had better insert a GB photo. Also, this is the face that Rod is working on for this evening.|
Anyway, I look forward to spending time with both of them this evening, and plying them with Asparagus Champagne Risotto and tiny little cream puffs until they tell me everything I want to know. (insert maniacal , evil laugh or maniacal demented mother laugh. They are similar.)
The bottom line is, I can't post about family too often without payback of some sort.
Speaking of the bottom line, I can share about the latest is my fashion trends.
Such as the kicky sweatpants I wore tucked into muck boots when I needed to just run into the grocery store real quick.
They were a bit worn, old and speckled with who knows what from the kitchen.
But the piece de resistance was definitely the big rip where the seam had opened right up so I could share my the color of my underwear with all the people on the mountain. And the unearthly white leg/hip whenever I took an extra long step, or turned real quick.
Did I feel kind of cold and breezy?
You bet I did.
But I wrote it off to the snowy, blowy weather we are having and not to the fact that my pants were split wide open.
Did any of the good people of the mountain kindly stop me and mention my unmentionables?They did not. I don't know if I am happy or sad about that.
Well, I better skedaddle (yes, I said skedaddle) and start making those tiny little cream puffs and practicing my scary-Mama face and threatening tone for tonight.
Should be fun!
Have a happy Monday, everyone.