I’m pretty sure I promised a funny post or two once the neighborhood demons went back to school.
You see, now that the streets are empty and quiet all day, I get to spend my life listening to kids argue over who was the fist king of England and if Rihanna has any decent songs or not and whether we’re in a credit crisis or a minor correction. And then, there’s the bickering over whether it’s the responsible thing to vote another fat old white guy into office when the last old white guy made such a mess. . .
Certainly fodder for the blog, but my brain is so exhausted by the time they get done and it’s all mush with no ability left to string words together to make sentences, let alone amusing ones.
And on Wednesdays, we surf.
And on Thursday Dave drives R to school for signatures and I drive the other 4 to some distant land for what I hope is a convincing fake archeology dig. Because T is TOTALLY into stuff like that. Ancient Egypt is his thing.
And on Friday I sleep until noon. Because I am tired.
And because I managed to hurt my knee somewhere along the way. Or, this was a week that the arthritis chose that joint. Who knows. But it’s hard to walk. Thank goodness I have handicapped tags. There are benefits to being a cripple. . . It also seems that the arthritis has settled into the “joint” where my lower left ribs attach to my vertebrae. And you do not know fun until you’ve felt inflamed ribs.
Unless I injured them doing yard work the other day. Because let’s be honest. Other than the good parking, sometimes I forget I’m a cripple.
P.S. Photos of N on a surfboard coming up. Because Grandma finally knows how to check the new blog.