I had trouble getting all my pictures to load. Truth is, I ALWAYS have trouble with computer things. I have heard I have compatability issues. I have no clue what compatability issues even are. It makes my head hurt to even think about it. I usually just call Lib, and she straightens everything out for me.
Lib. Where are you? Answer your phone, I have a couple problems!!!
(K, maybe a lot of problems...)
But I will try and be back with more pictures. Just looking at them makes me want to have another party.
(the fact that I am now certifiably crazy has nothing to do with her, we haven't met, in person,
but I can't tell you how many times I wished she lived across the street from me,
or at least across the field from me,
and that she had a big, old front porch, with a rocker,
and I would just wander over to that front porch and plunk myself down on that rocker to bask in all her glory, but I digress...)
The next part all happened in about five minutes.
From 2:01 AM, to 2:06 AM, to be precise.
I awoke from a dream.
I was babysitting for a family that goes to school where I teach (what???)
And I lost two of their younger kids (what, again???)
When I finally found them,
they were sucking kerosene out of a pinprick they made in the plastic kerosene bottle. (WHAT???)
I tried to read the ingestion instructions on the label.
Of course, the label was all smeared off, so the instructions were illegible.
All I could think of to do was run around the kitchen
yelling at the top of my lungs, in a very hopeful and most helpful voice,
"No one light a match! No one light a match!"
That's when I woke up. Shaking my head at all my weirdness.
Thank goodness, only a dream...
My husband woke me up actually, coming home from working over-time.
Our conversation went like this:
Hi, Hon, glad you made it home from work finally.
sleepy, grunted greeting,
How was your hospital run?
Well, let's just say I just took a 41-year-old _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ (I can't actually get myself to type the word he said, but let's just say it's a "fancy lady" that works with a pole, and she's not a barber)to the hospital.
Let's just say she sprung a leak.
Kate, one of her boobs popped.
What????? (comprehension took a long time to set in on that one.) Oooooohhhhh.