Hot mama update! While I was at the kudzu bar yesterday evening a thunderstorm moved through and saved the thermometer from poppin' out the top. I do so love me a good storm. When I went in it was right at a hundred...by the time I left girls' night out, not one.bead.of.sweat formed on my pretty little brow..OR..under my boobs. You know she's a low maintenance kinda girl when she measures joy by lack of boob sweat and incoming trauma. Cloudy all day today with a high of 82. SWEET. Big Ernie sent the relief at just the right time as I have noticed that tempers are a wee bit, shall we say, bitchy and short of late. Nah..how about we take some dramatic license and say downright evil. Quote from my friend Sue: " If hell is anything like this, I'm gonna straighten up."
Amen,sista.

Only 29 days 'til my birthday, by the way. I am all about birthdays because I believe that it's a good excuse to be spoiled rotten for a day...or a week. My Mama has always made a big deal about my birthday, doing things to make me feel special just for being her first born and only girl. When we were closer together and not so busy we got together for dinner whenever the calendar turned another year's page on one of our lives. There were always pictures, usually with the ketchup bottle right smack in the middle of the table covering up Bubba's face. He hates the camera thing. He was born in the dead-of-winter January while the baby brother T Harold got hatched in glorious month of October. Sometimes I marvel at the ways we are all so different coming from the same litter, but then there are familial similarities that become more apparent with each passing year.

Poor old pregnant Hannah waddled down to the lab to pick up some blood for one of her patients today and it reminded me of when I was fat-ass preggers with BabyGirl twenty two years ago, running the halls of the hospital with a phlebotomy tray on my hip never missing a beat.

What the hell was I thinking?


When's your birthday?