Attention parents of neighborhood Christian school: Tomorrow morning, as you maneuver in and out of the school lot for drop off, before you say, block all lanes of oncoming traffic with your car just so you don’t have to wait for the light to cycle through again; or enthusiastically show your fellow motorists the tallest finger God gave you, ask yourself – How Would Jesus Drive?
He knows if you’ve been good or bad so…. wait. That’s Santa.
But still – HWJD?
Just Sayin’.
The Casa kitchen reno starts tomorrow. It is going to be quick and dirty, which is how we like our reno work.
It is also how I like these:
Which I apply liberally to soothe renovation woe.
Coincidence? Probably isn’t.
Just sayin’.
3:53 a.m..
Awakened by what sounded like a hippie bus with a bad fan belt in my back yard. Turned on back porch light.
Raccoon the SIZE of hippie bus looks up for a split second from edge of deck and then goes on doing whatever the hell he is doing – I’d say fighting another racoon, but only one came away…. he eventually got tired of my light and swaggered off into the neighbors lawn to menace someone else. What will the dawn’s early light reveal in the yard?
For realsies- WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING OUT HERE?
Just Sayin’.
When you are living stacked up on top of other humans, bathrooms tend to be, ummmm, economicly sized. This seems like a bad thing, I suppose.
But with small bathrooms come small mirrors.
With, say, CRAZY large suburban master baths, for instance, come giagantic oversized mirrors.
Mirrors that might be placed directly across from the all-glass shower.
Mirrors that offer a shockingly full view of/to an unprepared occupant of said shower, who MAY be still working off the baby weight from her son’s birth two years not-that-long ago.
This view could cause said occupant to whip herself around and fling a blob of conditioner into her own eye (and maybe her slack-jawed mouth a little too.)
Nothing wrong with a small bathroom.
Just Sayin’.
Dear Mr.,
That “coconut” smell you are smelling is coconut oil. It is all over me and on and in every surface and thing in our house now.
Because why, you say?
Because interwebz control your wife.
But out loud I’m going to claim it is because of our current proximity to Boulder’s crunchieness.
Just Sayin’.
Wherever you go, there you are. You’ve been warned.
Reluctantly Suburban