I’m not even going to say it. No apology. You know where I’ve been. In case you don’t understand try writing your own book. The Chef tried to get me to leave my room and socialize downstairs tonight because I stay glued to the computer writing all day and night. I tried to beg off by saying I’d promised myself nothing would deter me from posting tonight after five days off from the blog. After an argument, I won. Here I am.
Besides, I had my hair cut and colored today. Vanity was a part of my decision not to be seen in public. It takes a day for me to be able to scrub the dye out of my eyebrows so I don’t look like Groucho Marx.
Well, who knew? Fish oil and vitamin E are blood thinners. No wonder I’m always cold. I take them both every day. It’s a good thing I don’t take a baby aspirin as well, or I might have water running in my veins. And, speaking of fish oils, I stopped by the Half Way to St. Patrick’s Day celebration Saturday night and bought a Baker’s dozen of steamed oysters. Yummy. I thought Confidante might benefit from eating some, but he wasn’t having it. Sorry ladies.
I hear the UARS (Upper Atmosphere Research Satellite) is expected to re-enter our atmosphere sometime between Thursday and Saturday. If you live anywhere between 57 degrees north latitude and 57 degrees south latitude, which covers most of Africa, southern Europe, China and Australia, watch out for falling debris. Libyan rebels are hoping it falls on their former leader, Mohammar Gadafi since he refuses to leave on his own.
My 95 year old mother keeps telling me to hurry up and get published because she’s trying to hold off dying until she reads my latest book. And, in honor of getting it published, my hairdresser has promised to treat me to finally getting the tattoo I've been wanting since writing mysteries. I want a quill pen dripping red ink for blood; nothing large, of course. I’ll leave it for the artist doing it to make a suggestion. Where will it be? Hip level on my back. I’m worried about it wrinkling when I get old. I figure the back’s a safe place. I wouldn’t want the quill to look like a snake when I hit 95.
The fall shows are back on. There’s only 4-5 programs that I like to watch, so when summer came, I kind of enjoyed not turning on the TV. I figure since I’m no longer playing pool, I’ll need something to do this winter. Confidante doesn’t work nights anymore because he’s in class. There’s no one else to play with now that Mr. Pool is gone. Well, damn.
Besides, I had my hair cut and colored today. Vanity was a part of my decision not to be seen in public. It takes a day for me to be able to scrub the dye out of my eyebrows so I don’t look like Groucho Marx.
Well, who knew? Fish oil and vitamin E are blood thinners. No wonder I’m always cold. I take them both every day. It’s a good thing I don’t take a baby aspirin as well, or I might have water running in my veins. And, speaking of fish oils, I stopped by the Half Way to St. Patrick’s Day celebration Saturday night and bought a Baker’s dozen of steamed oysters. Yummy. I thought Confidante might benefit from eating some, but he wasn’t having it. Sorry ladies.
I hear the UARS (Upper Atmosphere Research Satellite) is expected to re-enter our atmosphere sometime between Thursday and Saturday. If you live anywhere between 57 degrees north latitude and 57 degrees south latitude, which covers most of Africa, southern Europe, China and Australia, watch out for falling debris. Libyan rebels are hoping it falls on their former leader, Mohammar Gadafi since he refuses to leave on his own.
My 95 year old mother keeps telling me to hurry up and get published because she’s trying to hold off dying until she reads my latest book. And, in honor of getting it published, my hairdresser has promised to treat me to finally getting the tattoo I've been wanting since writing mysteries. I want a quill pen dripping red ink for blood; nothing large, of course. I’ll leave it for the artist doing it to make a suggestion. Where will it be? Hip level on my back. I’m worried about it wrinkling when I get old. I figure the back’s a safe place. I wouldn’t want the quill to look like a snake when I hit 95.
The fall shows are back on. There’s only 4-5 programs that I like to watch, so when summer came, I kind of enjoyed not turning on the TV. I figure since I’m no longer playing pool, I’ll need something to do this winter. Confidante doesn’t work nights anymore because he’s in class. There’s no one else to play with now that Mr. Pool is gone. Well, damn.