I Make Mistakes So You Don't Have To

My blogger writing form is a different color. This scares me in that The Tearful Dishwasher just lost his entire blog. What if it happened to me?
Oh. Who knows? The world would probably go on just fine.

All right. Advice for the day:
Do not eat a ton of sauerkraut at supper. You will find yourself drinking half a quart of juice and then half a gallon of water.

More advice:
If you eat a ton of sauerkraut and a bunch of broccoli, it is advisable to be alone in the ensuing hours after partaking of such gaseous foods.
I was. Thank god.

Even more advice:
If you do crunches, do them right. Otherwise you may hurt your upper back. Or perhaps it wasn't the crunches. Perhaps it was the weights. Anyway, let me now give you wisdom:
Between thirst, gaseosity and upper back pain, sleep can be interrupted frequently.

I feel like a whiny, colicky baby. I am wearing a most-likely dead old round short man's Levi's. The color makes me happy. There is no spandex in these jeans, thus they feel like a garment and not a girdle. They come up to what would be my waist if I had a waist and I am so short-waisted that this is approximately two and a half inches below where my bra would end if I was wearing a bra.
I have finally achieved complete and utter fashion FAILURE! As if the overalls hadn't been bad enough!

So what! No one is here to see me.

No. I do not know when Mr. Moon is coming home. He made my oyster stew in Tennessee. The one I told him I liked. With onions and celery and nutmeg in it. It was a huge success.
I wrote him and said, "Now that you know about nutmeg, please don't leave me."
He wrote back and said, "If I leave, I will give you thirty minutes to pack and come with me."

This is an old joke of ours. But it's a good one. He hasn't shot a buck yet. But I have a feeling he'll be home pretty soon. Whatever that means.

Owen is coming this afternoon. When I saw him yesterday we went out for lunch and then to a fabric store. He was a bit cranky.


He kept saying, "NO WAY!" I hope he is not saying that today. It makes him sound like a bratty teenager. I keep expecting Whatever to come out of his mouth. When that happens I have a plan- I will no longer change his diaper.
You're old enough to say whatever, you are old enough to use the potty, Mister Big Shot!
And then I'm going to teach him how to make me a martini.

Well, I guess I have dispensed enough wisdom and advice for one morning. I have plenty more, believe me, but we'll save it for another time. I need to go throw the rest of that sauerkraut to the chickens. I filled up their water thing last night so they should be okay. I don't even think chickens fart so there's that.
If they do, Lloyd might explode today.
That would be sad. And right after they built that new fence, too.

Yours truly...Ms. Moon