Is it possible to hate a bed more than I hate ours? I doubt it. It is a queen sized object of torture, on which I try to spend my night-time hours sleeping, but in reality it's more like tossing and turning and possibly lots of swearing. I have never found this bed comfortable, and in the past 9 years that we've owned it it's only become MORE uninhabitable. However, The Earner thinks it's just fine. So my poor hips will have to suffer, or perhaps sleep alone on the old marital bed that is in the office/spare room.
The rabbit is as cute as ever, which is a good thing as the cuteness is what keeps her from becoming a nice rabbit stew. She chews on wires. And shoes. And books. And linoleum. And anything wood, including but not limited to the door, the cabinets, and my kitchen table. She stays in the kitchen when she comes inside to visit, and has shown progress in the litter training area. That is if by "litter" you mean "box with newspaper", and by "progress" you mean "she did it once" and I do.
The Earner is again filling in for yet another vacationing employee at Plastics R Us, which means he's in the middle of 7 out of 8 in a row. Nights. Leaving me to watch many a television program that would be hurl-inducing and threatening to his manliness were he home. Things like Inside
Brookhaven and
Big Medicine. You know, shows I can get sucked into. Apparently not only am I sucked into that type of show, but also
message boards about the shows. I'm all about the sick reality
tv at this point. Survivor? no thanks. America's Next Top Model? not for me. Turn on TLC and the Discovery Health Channel, let me wallow in some morbidly obese health issues and shows about a
zillion kids. That's my kind of
tv.
My house is a mess. That's all I have to say about that.
The stupid weather has been horrible this entire week. Rainy and cold, with day time highs struggling to reach 60 for two of those wet days. There's no way we can get to the farm, we'd be stuck in mud in the middle of a row of green beans and not be found until next week. Rain. Daily. Depressing. IT'S AUGUST! Hello, it's called Global
Warming, people. (yes, I know global warming is about more than being hot, please no angry emails. As if I ever get emails. *snort*)
Our choir is cranking up for another fabulous season of liturgical music, starting with our
pre-practice meeting last week where we heard that our Fearless Leader would be leaving us. A major work project she's been slaving over for a couple of years now exploded and now they're doing damage control to the tune of J having to travel. Lots. As in her schedule now looks like 2 weeks in England, 1 week in the States, indefinitely. This is sad for us. I will be covering for practices and services as much as I can, but me not playing the piano is really not helping at this point. Too bad there's not a pill you can take for that.
There is a lot of yarn work going on as I am crocheting a shawl thing for my mother. Her birthday was yesterday, which caused The Earner to shake his head at my lateness. He doesn't get my family? still? after nearly 13 years of marriage? I just cast on for this project on Tuesday night, which I'm thinking is very timely, as it's still in the month of her birthday.
