Yesterday marked one year since I got my little pet, Luther. We don’t really know when he was hatched, so for our purposes his birthday was yesterday. To celebrate we bought him a dozen “friends”–ghost shrimp to either play with or eat, whichever he prefers.
To my newest nephew Timothy, baptized into God’s kingdom this morning. Wish I could have been there, but I bet the party there wasn’t nearly as grand as the partying angels in heaven!
If there is distress, this damsel will find it. When I was younger, it was my Dad who came to my almost daily rescue. (Who else could get the car mirror stuck between two trees?) When I was dreaming about my future husband, my must-have qualities (besides tall, dark and handsome) were 1. Christian and 2. Handyman. Not only did I get the tall, dark (when not shaven bald), handsome, Christian hubby, my BDK is really a plumber, electrician, mechanic, carpenter, technician, the list goes on…
Last night I succeeded in somehow breaking the dishwasher just by turning it on. Black smoke came out from in between the buttons. It was fried. Hubby took a look at it today and Mr. Dishwasher was declared dead at 11:30 A.M. this morning.
With the ink barely dry on Mr. Dishwasher’s death certificate I mortally wounded Mr. Garbage Disposal. After nearly an hour in surgery to remove very clogged pipes under the sink, I was informed that Mr. Disposal is NOT meant to chop up potato peelings. Who knew? Apparently Mr. Disposal is only meant for the occasional noodle.
What distress awaits this damsel next? You probably won’t have long to wait to find out.
I am amazed at just how physical stress can be. During the three months of working customer service my body shut down from 6pm to 6am, I had headaches and stomachaches everyday, my cycle completely stopped, and my right lung was so tight I had trouble breathing. I have now been back at my “real” job–housewife–for one week now and I have alertness and energy when I’m with my hubby, I can eat beef and salad again, my cycle started my last day of work, and I can breathe easily out of both lungs. Amazing, isn’t it? Of course we won’t have the luxury of the extra income and money will be tight, but wow! to be able to function again!
I love being Auntie Rachie–it’s the next best thing to having my own kids. I even refer to my neices and nephews as “my kids” and pictures of them are all over my refridgerator. Well, today I added another picture. Check out my little Timmy.