Stalling, stalling, stalling…(put to the music of Rawhide) is what I’m doing instead of writing. Speaking of, as I was trying to go to sleep last night, the writer within woke. You could write right now, you know? I’m really inspired. Let’s do it. Hey, you!
The little bastard was persuasive, and like money being pulled by a string, it almost got me. I almost said duped, but I don’t think that’s what it was. I really want to write, so when inspiration hits, instead of having my head down eating popcorn I want to have my mitt up and ready for the fly ball.
That literally happened. My Dad, brother, and I were at a Mariners game, and a foul ball hit the back of our chairs as we passed food to each other. We then watched on disappointedly as the ball bounced to some other attentive kid.
The moral; you gotta be ready!
Perhaps I’ll set my laptop on the kitchen table, so it’ll be there when the juices start flowing. Better yet, why not keep it bedside so I can sneak it under the covers like I did when I’d read late at night as a kid?
I’ll do that.
I fell asleep in “Spirited” last night. And the other day, I fell asleep during the first episode of the sci-fi show “Peripheral”. In college, my boyfriend used to get upset when I fell asleep during movies. Because of him I have this startle-awake and start talking like I’ve been awake the whole time, sort of reflex. It’s horrible.
I don’t even want to try and describe what it’s like to put the ducks back in their pen. Just imagine winding up nine toys that spin and shoot forward randomly all while trying to herd them in the same direction.
Several of them are flying, specifically the four youngest females. The three males are almost double the female’s size and look ridiculous trying to will their not-so-ready beach bods into the air.
That’s it for duck news.
An update on the cutting board front; we didn’t find one. The Old Cannery, The Kitchen Shop, and a few other local joints had a weak showing. It looks like the purchase will be made online after all.
While Dave played board games at a friend’s house, I spent one-on-one time with Evelyn last night. She asked, “When I get bigger, and bigger, and bigger, I break the house?” She waved her hand to the vaulted ceiling as her eyes followed. In her mind, it’s possible to grow as big as a mythical giant, I guess. I told her no, and she seemed satisfied.
She is so dang active, and with it being dark and wet out, I’d like to find her an indoor gym/slide/climby thing for Christmas. Hopefully used.
Well, I’m going to start on the queue of slept-through shows now. Wish me luck.
Love, Jaclynn
Going On 40 