Is This a Real Post?

Oh jeehosophat. It's been a long time since I've written anything like a real post. My apologies. I don't think I even know what a real post looks like anymore.

So I didn't make any New Year's resolutions. No "lose a thousand pounds before Easter" kind of thing. The patients at the crazy hospital taught me that resolutions are bad. They either set you up for epic fail, or you become a rabid idiot about achieving them. Life's too short for resolutions once a year. Like I told Mir yesterday in a comment, why start a diet every January first? Wait till February 15th and the chocolate sales are over.

Life is clipping along here at a pretty uneven pace. I quit my psych hospital job last November and am working tiny bits of child care at church for pay. Maybelline and Oatmeal Head managed to pull solid D's in two each of their classes last semester. We gave them the "Bad grades equal high insurance rates for teens, so no licenses till your grades come up" lecture. We'll see. I'm not holding my breath.

My grandmother, the one I visit as often as I can, is no longer visitable. Unless I plan on doing myself in sometime soon. She died the week before Christmas. A bittersweet holiday this year. Her funeral was beautiful. At 91, she was ready to go. We just weren't ready to let her go. Her daughters and granddaughters all wore pieces of her colorful Zuni jewelry to the funeral. The casket spray was almost gaudy in its colors. Gorgeous. The woman was an artist and loved to be surrounded by color. She would have enjoyed the funeral immensely. Family came from all over the country.

I made baskets. Ugly ones and pretty ones. I'm burning wood, making pretty pictures on it. Trying to figure out what other productive things I can do with a wood burning tool. Salt dough creations that scare people. You can't burn salt dough, even dry. It's like burning a stale cookie. No I think I might try my hand at writing again. The vampire novel scared me too much to keep writing it, so I'm thinking the title Clown Wars has potential. A book about a woman who continually frightens her husband with a small clown. It has potential. Ya think?

The heater's broken. The blower motor, actually. Fortunately, it's going to be in the 50's today. And we have a wood-burning fireplace. Someone's coming out to fix it tomorrow. Which is good, because my toes are cold.

Somewhere in all of this, someone introduced me to People of WalMart. It's my daily fix of horror. I squishy heart the site. Ranks right up there with Cake Wrecks. Check it out.

So. Maybe this is a real post. Y'all come back and I might do it again.

Until I write again ...

Flea