Random thoughts to crowd out the ugly results of the presidential election:
Nora is the Tasmanian Devil. Or maybe the real Devil. Except when she's not. Right now, she's sleeping on the foot of my bed, and she's dreaming, maybe of chasing butterflies, maybe of putting a choke hold on Fletcher, but she's sweetness incarnate right now as her toes curl and her nose twitches while she sleeps.
I heard one of our local news anchors say "her and I" on the air, and I can't unhear it.
Unfollowing people on Facebook post-election has been so satisfying. You may think unfollowing rather than unfriending is passive-aggressive, but you know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, plus I'm a sissy.
Lin-Manuel Miranda is my new boyfriend.
One of our two boy cats (we don't know which, as they don't sign their work) pooped in my husband's closet while we were at my dad's last weekend. (Nora is innocent, as she was with us.) We found out this happened when my husband put something in the closet, stepped in the poo, then tracked it all across our bedroom and down the hall before he noticed.
Without being TOO graphic, the poo was, shall we say, not in solid form, and whoever it was got it in (INSIDE, people!) two different shoes, one tennis, one dress, besides three places on the floor. Oh, yeah, and out of 3800 square feet of house, guess which space is the ONLY space in the entire house with carpet in it? Mmmhmm, our two walk-in closets.
I'm pooped out.
Spotify > Pandora
My dad bought himself a new sewing machine. He has some projects to do, he says. More power to him.
My husband was so inspired by my dad that he's now watching sewing tutorials on YouTube, and I know this because he's doing this without benefit of headphones.
Shotgun watches for deer.
Toilet paper is not optional and should be provided to everyone for free.
A happy heart is good medicine.