Thursday, May 01, 2008
I might finally have it in gear to plow through the cleansing of said household. But please don't hold your proverbial breath because it is going to take me a LONG time, still progress is being made.
Em called last night to hire my child sitting services for next week so that she can go see Marty play his fine drum compositions in Julius Caesar as no one in the show is capable of this task. So Marty is now in the show as well as composer for the show. And not only is he in the show, he is in every scene.
In our conversation Em mentioned that the new princess dress that I made for Lydia is not quite making it. It needs, after all my pains to make it not so, a zipper or button for entry and exit. So while in our local blue light special store today to get boxes for the great reorganization, I snapped up an on sale tank top set to make L a second dress until I can get the first one adjusted.
Home, I yanked a tulle under layer off of one of E's old prom dresses and stitched it onto the top. Voila! Princess dress to go. It's in the mail. And, no, Martin did not get left out. He gets Ebay Lego figures for his collection. In the last box, he was so excited to see a Tuskan Raider that he immediately yelped with glee, "I need to write a thank-you note." I may be paraphrasing but I'm close.
I almost split my side (really) laughing at Quinn's blog today. I have been in that spot so many times myself. You are blathering on, the poor recipient of your diatribe is struggling to look interested, the clearer headed part of you is grabbing the blathering part by the collar to rescue you from yourself. But blathergirl is not to be stopped. She slaps collar girl, hard, and keeps right on a talking. Oh it is not a pretty sight at all.
I actually do not think that men have this genetic disposition. It is unique to us gals. And anyway, as we all know, men have a far smaller daily supply of words so they would barely get started before being cut off. I'm thinking that D would probably give the QC Report entry that tickled my funny bone a cursory glance, try to get into it, but the more he read the less he would understand the humor, and finally throw up his basketball (it would be his hands but the basketball, an extension of said hands, is almost always in one or the other) in a, what's so funny about that, gesture.
Happy May Day everyone!