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a girl's gotta write what a girl's gotta write
Thank you for the lumpy throats and teary eyes and hand holding. Yesterday's post was cathartic and necessary and very painful, even as I re-read it with every comment. I will survive. I mean, gah..it's not like I haven't been in the Outer Mongolia of parenthood before. You young ones remember it when your sweetie pies turn into Tazmanian Devils who slam the door in your face .."This too shall pass."

Now that I've permanently scarred my knuckles tearing off that formica, I'm tackling the wallpaper+paint+wallpaper on the kitchen walls in preparation for painting. My cousin came to visit me at work today and we about peed in our pants laughing over the length of time our kitchens have been destroyed. She told me how a young friend was coming over to teach her how to tile and I begged to get in on the free lessons. His parents are currently remodling a church building as their home, stained glass and all. Their living quarters are complete and now they're tackling the sanctuary/great room. Gotta love it. Nobody else wanted it, and it was their dream speaking to them in very plain language.

Just a reminder from the blood bank lady. If you are healthy and eligible to donate blood, now is the time that the routine of blood donation gets lost in the shuffle of vacations and back to school and the oppressive heat. People don't stop needing blood in spite of these distractions. Every eight weeks you can give the gift of life to someone by donating. Why the heck not?
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