HEY! I’m offended by this. I think. :hehe:

You Are Italian Food

Comforting yet overwhelming. People love you, but sometimes you’re just too much.

Quote du Jour:
“You need to be kissed and often. And by someone who knows how.”
–Rhett to Scarlet, Gone With The Wind

Yesterday morning began with the clucking chickens next door. Yes, folks, the chickens.

Saturday afternoon while we were mowing, I peeked through the wood fence (to my husband’s horror, but hey, I was curious). The neighbors had family in from southeast Texas avoiding Rita (with witty sayings shoe-polished on the back of their cars like “The only thing Rita blew was my bank account” and “I prefer salt with my Rita”) and they had brought their farm along with them. There were four chickens, a duck, and three dogs. That I saw.

So Sunday morning, at 7:30 am, as my husband and I are waking up, we hear the sound of the chickens. When I sat up half way, my head cocked to listen, Husband said, “Yes, it was the chickens.”

At least it wasn’t the dog barking again.

But that was about to change.

I thought the visitors had left with all their farm animals in tow, but apparently not. As I was drifting off to sleep last night, the dog, once again, began to bark. And it just went downhill from there. Here’s how the evening panned out:

10:30 pm
Dog barks for 20 minutes. Angry voices shouting for dog to shut it.

11:00 pm
Kid wails for 30 minutes. For the love of God…

11:30 pm
My kid wails. I run upstairs to find he had fallen in the toilet. (Don’t ask.)

11:45 pm
Back in bed, husband follows. He snores. I’m awake. I want to stick a sharp pointy thing in my eye.

12:00 am
Major back spasms to the point I have to sit up and whine. No sympathy from husband.

12:15 am
Spasms subside. Finally get to sleep.

2:45 am
An elephant in the guise of a 4-yr-old lands on the bed. “Mom, my tummy hurts.” We discuss at some length how his tummy hurts and I cart his heavy butt back up to his room.

6:00 am
Alarm goes off, much to my dismay.

It was a restless night, to say the least. I should be exhausted, but somehow I feel rather spunky despite the constant nocturnal interruptions.

Started a new book last night. So far, I’m not impressed. By page 15, I just wanted to shout, “Sell the bloody girl, already!” I fell asleep on page 20.

No writing done this weekend, of course. Hey, I thought about it. Does that count? Need to work on the chapter newsletter this week. I can get it put together in about two evenings and be done.

It blows me away this is the last full week of September. I can’t believe how fast this year is flying.