I know it sounds silly, but I can't paint my bedroom until I get rid of all the junk. I spent yesterday clearing a mountain of clutter. The clutter consists primarily of books, computer CD's, mail, disorganized notebooks and papers. And what's up with the wires all over the place? Buck has flimsy explanations for keeping every one. I'm patting myself on the back for finding important missing notebooks I require for my Shepherd's Call work. I also found three solid writing projects waiting patiently for me if I get a wild hair to pick them up again.
Four years ago, when we moved into this house, I peeled off a gawdy border trimming the wall next to the ceiling in my bedroom. I never went back and repaired the chunks of drywall I also removed during the job. In fact, I've never done anything to my bedroom, since I've lived here beside peel off that border. Guess that fix is on queue 1,460 days later. I chose ice blue green paint to match a fabulous fabric I ordered at Short Sheet last weekend. It's worth the hour drive to Crossville just to wander aimlessly in that gorgeous store for an hour or two. The bedspread I ordered from Ebay is silk chocolate brown. My sinister plan is for all new decor to totally clash with the nasty, faded and stained maroon carpet enough for Buck to demand we immediately install new natural colored berber carpet.
Along with improving my living quarters, I'm making dinner today for a large family of all boys whose mom and dad are in China picking up their adopted daughter. Won't that be a hoot? A delightful little girl surrounded by six rowdy brothers? Sunday I tried out a chicken rigatoni recipe by scribbit, and it makes nearly a ton of food. It just might do for a pack of devouring wolves like these young men. The best part of all is that these crazy people LOVE my sometimes pathetic cooking. They'll treat me royalty when I carry in trays of food.
Events Correctly Predicted By The Simpsons - Matt Groening and the writers on *The Simpsons* have made some incredibly bold predictions over the years- and way too many of them have actually come tr...
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