First of all, sorry about that Frahgblahg. I cannot seem to manage to get Froggy to get his own blasted blahg. I’ve been trying for years. I step away from my computer for just a few minutes (much needed to step away by the way ;-)) and he takes over. Yes he *does* regard the “garbidge” truck as a “grokkery” store. But he also sometimes stows away on *real* grocery store trips. He loves to turn on those little showers in the produce section. You know, the ones that make a thundery noise. And then. It is interesting to be out of the house for the whole day every day and try to fit the errands of life around it. I can no longer think to myself, “Oh I will just go to the post office to mail this box to California after I watch As the Planet Turns and eat a few more bonbons, etc. Well, there *are* chocolate cherries in the house at the moment. But. I went to the post office this morning and they were understaffed and there were a couple of “problem” people there. Like this one guy ahead of me who kept talking to me and his voice was so low that even my hypersensitive ears couldn’t tell what he was saying. So it definitely took some time for the postal people to deal with him. And (sigh) I even saved his place in line while he went out to his vee-hickle to get something. At least I think that’s what he did but I could hardly hear him so I don’t really know*. Anyway, I was behind him in line. That was my morning. It was raining cats and dogs and a few skunks and possums and frogs Grok grok Never mind him. He’s been banished to his “londry baskit.” By the time I got to work, I felt like a drowned rat. But it was beautiful weather and the building my work is in somehow feels like an aquarium in the rain. It’s hard to describe but somehow I enjoy that feeling. And, if you’ve gotten this far, do not get me wrong. I am having a *great* time with the full-time hours. It’s a new adventure and I knew there would be kinks and these are minor ones and I will work it all out.

Ciao Bambino,
Kayak Woman

* That’s a LOT better than when I ran into a fellow grade-school mom at the post office once and, when I asked her about her family, she launched LOUDLY into a whole ugly thing about how her husband had molested the baby and was now in jail “up north” somewhere, etc., etc., etc. Yikes!!! Why did I ask, again? Sigh…

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