No, not a trip. Just a silly way to start a "I have been MIA for a really really long time and I am going to jump right in like I haven't been gone at all" post. Sorry, I must have been channelling the golden girls. Great. Now I have that "Miami" song stuck in my head. Drat.
So. How 'ya been? What'cha been doing? How's the kids? Hey, did I tell you I got a guitar for christmas? Yep. An inexpensive accoustic to learn on. I already know three chords and can belt out a rousing rendition of "Blowing in the Wind". The best part of practicing is knowing that I am driving DH and DD crazy playing the same thing over and over and over again, complete with bad singing! It's like a dream come true. My goal is to be able to bring my guitar places (like Brownies and cottages and camping and stuff) and play many different songs badly while singing horribly. If I get really good, I might even be able to properly mangle requests. *sniff* *sniff*. Such a bee-yoo-ti-ful dream. Makes me weepy. *snrrrrrrk*. Oops. Sorry about your sleeve.
Ruby is droopy right now. She is upset because she wants me to sit on the couch and make my lap available to her. She is not pleased that I chose to blog instead. See? It isn't entirely my fault I have been MIA. How can I resist those eyeballs?
It has been pretty cold here. She doesn't generally mind the snow and stuff. But at night she has been spending a lot of time behind my knees or under the covers. Beats having her on my head, mind you. But between her, the cats, and my flannel pajamas I feel like I am caught in flypaper all night. I try to move one way and I am pinned under the covers by a cat. Try to move the other way and get a disgruntled snort for crowding the dog. Try to flip in place and nearly dislocate something because my flannel is velcro'd in place on the sheets. Some nights I am tempted to go sleep on the couch, but the critters would only follow me. And DH or DD is bound to come wake me up and ask me what I am doing on the couch.
WHY wake a sleeping person and ask what they are doing? I mean, I am obviously not playing raquetball or advising City Council at that moment. Sheesh.
For those that care, I am still eating vegan. Other than the occasional cream in my coffee (when I go out. I use soy creamer at home and work) and the very occasional free-range antibiotic-free organic brown egg, that is. The shells on those things are so hard you practically need a hacksaw to crack them open. And the yolks? The colour is richer than the sun, my friends. So dark and intense that DD is suspicious and won't eat them ROFL! Now isn't that a kick in the pants? DH cracked one of each kind in separate bowls and we couldn't believe the difference. Even though they were bought at the same time, the organic eggs were visibly fresher. If only I didn't have to mortgage the house to eat them. Darn city by-laws. I'll get my own chickens yet.