What's up with Whatsit

Knock knock. Who's there? You won't believe it!

Hey peeps. (I've always wanted to say that!)

I've been letting my blogging slide because I was going to let my account expire as of noon yesterday, but thanks to RAOK I have two more months. Which is fortunate: I was wondering when I would lose the habit of looking at every situation bloggishly.

For example: Friday, Matt was sick. He woke up Thursday with his face and lips swollen up, so my mom took him to the doctor, and it turns out he had a little place inside his nose that was infected. The doctor didn't want him back at school until Monday, so I was with him Friday.

Around four I go in the kitchen to think about what to cook. I turn on the water to make rice. My faucet said "Bluuurp" and refused to emit anything the least bit water-ish. I'm running around the house turning on faucets and getting the same thing. I get in a panic and call the water department. I'm saying "I know I paid my water bill! I KNOW I did!" The whole time, I'm trying to think if the water bill slipped up on me somehow - I'm fairly obssesive about gettting my bills paid immediately, so I was pretty sure I HAD paid it. My thought is that they better get it while it's in there. The lady checked and found that I had, in fact, paid my bill and said she would send somebody.

Anyway, I get off the phone and hear a knock. I was in my kitchen where my back door is, and that's where the knock sounded like it came from. Nobody was there. I am wondering at this point if I'm losing it. I go to the front door: nobody. However, there is a black pickup truck in my driveway. I walk all the dern way around my house and see nobody. I make it back to my front door and go back through to the kitchen. There in my backyard is my plumber, Ronnie.

I holler "I'm gonna whip you," having seen in a flash that he is the cause of all my troubles. We have been building a back porch onto our house, and my husband had asked him two months ago to come put a faucet on it. While I'm pointing my finger in the air and ranting at Ronnie for scaring me to death, Matt comes out there and tells me that some man on the front porch wants to talk to me. I go apologize to the water department. If something had been spewing, they STILL wouldn't be here.

Anyway, Ronnie had gone under the house for some reason and heard me ranting at the Water Department. Good thing I'm not the type to automatically go to ugly words since he's a deacon in our church. I was just in a panic at that point. That was when he knocked on the underside of the floor.

My point: always be careful what you say, since you never know when somebody will be under your kitchen floor listening.

Other than that:

I am reading Lonesome Dove and The Green Mile. Both are splendid, you should try them, but wait until you have time since you won't be able to keep your eyeballs off of them. I just got through with The Other Boleyn Girl: it is superb.

We have a new principal, Dr. Brown. He is exceedingly nice. This year is going so much better. It's surprising how much difference a nice, professional, supportive supervisor can make.

Emily is on the cross-country team at her junior high. The other day she ran two-and-a-half miles in twenty-seven minutes. Anna Claire is in 4th grade and she's cheerleading. Matt is in second grade and he is playing flag football.

I don't remember if I blogged about my new dog or not, so I'll go ahead: our beagle, Katie, passed away. We still have Wimzy, our beagle/Jack Russell mix. Our new dog is a little black puffball named Little Bit. She's super snuggly, and her favorite time to snuggle is just as I'm supposed to arise to get ready for work.

Now you know what I know, except for the fact that I am going to my bed as soon as my little legs will get me there. Nighty night!

" . . .my doctor says I have a malformed public duty gland and
a natural deficiency in moral fiber . . ." Douglas Adams