The Popsicle incident

Our heroine entered the garage, a slight frown marring her features. "We are out of popsicles," she announced to her platinum-blond husband.

A look of concern mixed with amusement crossed his handsome features. 'Do you want me to run to the store to get more?"

She considered his offer. Popsicles were silly enough in January, without a special trip to the grocery store in search of them. Still, they were out. "Do you know what kind to get?"

"No."

She sighed. Apparently he had already forgotten her monologue only a few days before regarding her excitement at seeing these particular popsicles and memories of the same ones from her childhood had been a waste of breath. "No, you don't have to do that." He would probably buy the wrong ones anyway, and she didn't want a repeat of the onion roll incident. She kissed him on the cheek and went back inside the house, visions of cherry-pineapple childhood popsicles dancing in her head. She would have to stop by the grocery store on the way home from work.

Am I still a biker chick. . . .

if I sell my bike? That's right, I sold my baby, to fund my new baby. I had been thinking of it for a while, since we found out that I was expecting, and last week, I did it. I wasn't going to be able to ride at all next year, and who knows after that, so I sold my bike. Motorcycles don't like sitting in a garage being neglected. They deserve to be out on the open road. If I can't ride the bike, then I needed to find a good home for it, with a new owner that would.

So that money will now buy a crib, car seat, stroller, etc. I was ready to upgrade bikes anyway, even if my wallet wasn't. Maybe in a few years. . .

My husband laughed as I went in to the garage to say goodbye to her. She was a great first bike. We learned a lot from each other.

Just a different type of needle

Ah, blessed second trimester. The queasies are down to hardly ever, and is usually just a sign that I need to eat or have eaten too much. And my energy level close to back to normal. Last weekend, I caught up (nearly) on cleaning. This weekend, because I am not crazy enough to venture out into that Arctic Blast and 20 below wind chill factor, I am catching on on laundry and cleaning the last few neglected areas. (We do not talk about the shower lately, but today, it will sparkle.)



My sleep cycle is completely screwed up, but that has nothing to do with the little one. That is because of my fourth deadbeat tenant in a row. I am still in the process of suing the last two, and now and facing another eviction. What makes people think that they have the right to live in a place, and not pay for it? Do they think that I am wealthy and can support their family as well as my own? Guess what, I am not! Yesterday was the cherry on the sundae. She lied to me. She out and out lied to me. Did you call today to have the gas transferred into your name? (We won't mention that it should have been done two months ago, and that she has already said she was going to three times in the past month.) Yes, I did. I called today. Really? Because according to the gas company, you didn't; you better, or it is going to get very cold inside the house. That was my last ounce of patience. The final straw! The rent is late (allegedly in the mail), and it is only the third month. I hope they don't mind moving, because they are going to be again as soon as I can get their deadbeat butts out of there! Worrying about this is keeping me awake at night, and I just don't need it. I am ready to just sell the house, and i don't care if I take a loss on it. I just want out! No wonder this little town has hardly any houses for rent, landlords who try to provide reasonable-cost housing are driven to their knees in a couple short years.



I'm sorry. I feel better after venting.

I have been working the needle lately, just not a knitting needle. I have been busy stitching receiving blankets. Well, blanket, singular, so far. I am on my first, but it is half finished. I have four more folded pieces of flannel waiting on me. I know, it isn't knitting, but it is the first time I have had energy to do anything craft related in months, so I am excited. I am even back to reading my blogs of worth. Makes me feel like life is back to normal a little.

Today, it is all about venting back to needledom.