Trip to the Big Box on hold til this disgracefully small amount of snow melts. Gimpdom membership necessitates the use of solar power to clear windshields. I don't think this means I'm lazy. I did the math. Broken hip + humiliating shrieks of pain while attempting to stretch over Ancient Vehicle and wield a snow brush = Ooompossible.
Time killing and I came across more interesting bloggy spots courtesy of Yvestown. And Darling Eldest Daughter posted more photos of her trip to the Great White North. And I've been playing with this Pinterest thing online. (Not what I expected and, hopefully, loyal readers will take it with the usual grain of salt.) AND last night I finally watched Plan 9 From Outer Space. Busy, busy and it's not even nine yet.
During all this I am consumed (yes, con-freaking-sumed!) by guilt. Those ridiculous rulesjammed down my throat taught to me by you know who and years of parochial education have fucked me up unto my 60th year. Yea Verily! I don't actually blame anything or
anybody, let's get that straight. (I can just picture the Monkeys rubbing their paws getting ready to pass that last little bit along while it's hot...) But I do know where it got started. Yup.
Someday I will convince myself that it is OK to wait til after the sun comes all the way up to shower. And that God is NOT going to strike me down for daring to shop after lunch. And that waiting a bit does NOT make me a bad person. This is not as easy as it sounds, people. Those guilt roots go so very deep.
Til then I will gird my ample loins; play another round of mindjolt three tower solitaire; and think about what Stephen Hawking would do.
Time killing and I came across more interesting bloggy spots courtesy of Yvestown. And Darling Eldest Daughter posted more photos of her trip to the Great White North. And I've been playing with this Pinterest thing online. (Not what I expected and, hopefully, loyal readers will take it with the usual grain of salt.) AND last night I finally watched Plan 9 From Outer Space. Busy, busy and it's not even nine yet.
During all this I am consumed (yes, con-freaking-sumed!) by guilt. Those ridiculous rules
anybody, let's get that straight. (I can just picture the Monkeys rubbing their paws getting ready to pass that last little bit along while it's hot...) But I do know where it got started. Yup.
Someday I will convince myself that it is OK to wait til after the sun comes all the way up to shower. And that God is NOT going to strike me down for daring to shop after lunch. And that waiting a bit does NOT make me a bad person. This is not as easy as it sounds, people. Those guilt roots go so very deep.
Til then I will gird my ample loins; play another round of mindjolt three tower solitaire; and think about what Stephen Hawking would do.
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