After waking with an allergy headache for several days and sneezing my fool head off for awhile, I finally bought some allergy meds. They work pretty good. Too good almost: my nose is no longer acting as a filter for the allergens and so I am dealing with the asthmatic side effects of that. Sweet, right?

Ok, I meant to take this photo on the 21st, but I forgot. Also, you get no explanation, but I know the story and that will have to satisfy you for now.

I love this picture. I love everything about it: the colors, the perspective, the people, all of it. Usually I avoid posting pictures like this to the blog out of consideration, but on this night, having been called a whore for approximately the 5,749th time since my separation some 13 and a half months ago, I was just pissed off enough to take the shot I wanted instead of passing it by. It will be printed, framed and displayed in my room before you read these words I have written about it.

On this day, there was a madatory cashier’s meeting at work. At 7:30 pm. It aggravated me so much to have to go back to town that I took a picture to commemorate the event.

All was not sad, however. On the way, I tried to call That One on his cell with no success. He called me back *from home* mildly stating that he’d lost signal on his other phone. It was only then that I believed he would really, truly, totally, actually make it home for the ball. Although he had known since that morning, and we’d spoken no less than three times throughout the day. And he calls me a butthead. HA!

Here is my sweater as it appeared on Feb 17. It was right about this time that I admitted to myself that I most likely was NOT going to finish it in time for the ball on the 20th.

I was still knitting on the first sleeve, you see. And later that night, I realized that the written pattern was incorrect for the crocheted lace trim, though the chart was correct. Right as I finished up the lace on that sleeve. Unfortunately for me, I had followed the words instead of the pictures. I elected to press on incorrectly in the interest of time and just see what happened.

One of the perks of having boys, besides the ready access to hot wheels, batman suits and jeep accessories is the joy of watching them play ball. This year, I finally got around to signing them up for the one sport I understand.

I took this shot as we arrived for tryouts. And by the way, it was fuh-reaking fuh-reezing. I still haven’t heard from the older boys’ team coaches, but Batman will be having a practice as soon as it stops raining.

P.S. The girls will be playing to, only t-ball, instead of baseball.

‘kay, so I have been having trouble sleeping. To the point that Guitar Guy thinks I need to discuss it with the doctor, since he sees me online when I am up in the middle of the night. Oops, busted with insomnia. Anyway, to help with that, I have instituted a 10pm bedtime for myself. I thought ya’ll would find it funny enough that a 42 year old has a bedtime that I took a picture to commemorate it. Yeah, I know it says 9:39. But I am supposed to be *in the bed* by 10. Good night, ya’ll.

Folks, this is Country and DaBaby, at DaBaby’s 4th birthday party. They look and act so much alike, but it’s a rare moment that finds them both in the same frame. So, instead of cute cake pics, you get this one. BTW, I have another set of twins born about this far apart as well. Perhaps you will see them together eventually. Or perhaps not.

On another note, I need to up my cashflow. Think I could make much selling custom shot glasses with my kids’ faces on ‘em? Hmmm, maybe that’s not quite the right glassware. Water goblets, then?