(Why don't I own this book?)I would love to tell you that I've been MIA because I won the lottery and am now writing to you from a private villa on Bora Bora, but the truth is that something in my wrist popped while I was doing yard work this weekend and I've been trying to rest it. Sadly, Baby Razor doesn't understand that I can't pick her up and clings to my leg until I
This weekend, the hubby and I spent five hours in our postage-stamp-size back yard and managed to take it from "disgraceful" to "kind of sad." We want the kid to have somewhere to run around and we want to have people over without being embarrassed, but holy hell, we are not plant people. Actual conversation:
"These are weeds, right?"
"I don't know. How do you tell?"
"They look...weedy?"
"No, look, they're planted in a pattern."
"Oh. So I should stop raking over them?"
Thankfully, we had beer. And during our lunch break, we visited the Staff Meal food truck for a meatloaf & bacon sandwich (him), headcheese & pecorino sandwich (me) and arepa with watermelon slaw (split). My non-expert review is that they were delicious, filling, and cheap. I'm looking forward to going again, perhaps to try the foie gras baklavah.
Ah, guys, I wish I had something more entertaining to write about than my weekend, but the truth is that adulthood has been kicking my ass lately. We made a list of big projects for the spring and all of a sudden, oh shit, it's spring! We need to get grass and rakes and paint and sandpaper and figure out what to do with them. Meanwhile, I'm also trying to figure out how to work while simultaneously keeping Baby Razor from banging her head into things. I don't know how to do it all.
Do you know? CAN YOU TELL ME?
Well, until I figure it out I'll take solace in a friend's recent Facebook status: [Friend] is dreading the day when the kids are no longer excited about fruit salad and toast for dinner and turn to me and say "Really Mom? You didn't go food shopping AGAIN????" Yup. That about sums it up.
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