Brain via Bullets

* hihowdyho

*I'm sorry this post title sounds like a surgery documentary that I would cover my eyes through.

*That Anna (the other one) is too nice. What started as her making fun of me to my face (which is what helps her keep her job) ended with her saying very nice things on my blog.

*She was promptly scolded for that.

*Kidding. I wuvher.

*If you were to photograph the inside of my brain right now, I am certain it would look exactly like the above.

*That is my book cover.

*Kidding again.

*Last night I walked by Isabela hunched over the dining room table trying to draw something with her left hand and I overheard her mumbling I wish I was both-handed.

*Good thinking, I told her. Then I spent five minutes staring at the ceiling and wondering if I were both-handed would I also then have enough coordination to be able to type with one hand and sew with the other? Which would do which? Hm.

*I am so looking forward to getting on the other side of my book deadlines for many reasons not the least of which is the fact that I can actually hear that giant expanse of prepared soil that I worked on all last summer begging me to plant, plant, plant. I hear it. It has a kinda whiny voice. That could be my own voice in my brain I imagine.

*But reporting back on how that cardboard method of weed control is going: AMAZING! Just a few weeds that are the springy type kinda sitting on the surface and really easy to yank out.

*We are planning a vegetable garden in the back yard which we've never done, and thinking it will be a built raised bed, and also the kids' responsibility. The weather is telling me we better get going. They seem excited, and especially when we all talk and plan together. I'll report back.

*The neighbors are getting chickens.

*No fair.

*I told the kids if they take good care of their vegetables this year then we will consider chickens next year.

*I know that chickens are not much like vegetables. But they will both be in the back yard. And they do taste delicious together. Although we just want their eggs. And to give them swanky old fashioned names. The chickens, not the eggs. Yea. I'll do some reading. Promise.

*Some kid called the house the other night and asked for Nick

*I told him he had the wrong number

*Pause

*Pause

*Is this #xxx-xxxx?, he asked

*Yes, I said (duh)

*And Nick Horner doesn't live there? he replied.

*ooooooooohhhhhhhhh NICOLAS? I exclaimed. I'm sorry I thought you said MICK.

*I didn't think he said MICK. I made that up fast because I was too embarrassed to admit my denial and therefore mental incapacities with regard to my son's NICKname. I really had no idea who that kid was talking about. Nick?

I do hope you're having a good day, xoxoxoAM