Sorry for the absence last week, but things are busy at CasaS with McKid home all day and my mom being not so great. Between here, there and yon, there hasn't been much time to peruse the internet, and what little time I had lent itself more to a few mindless games of canasta. I've thrown myself into the hands of the Regency Romance Writers, as a way of escaping reality. Well, those writers and P.G. Wodehouse. It's a hot summer, ya'll, and my brains are slowly frying.
I'll have a few thoughts on parenting, born out of my sitting poolside during swimming lessons and the usual hymns, shoes, books and art.
Glad to be back my friends. Hope you're still there.
Oh, and I'm bummed that Smock, who is the pickiest eater on the planet, gets to go to Taste of Chicago, while I am condemned to stay home and make mac and cheese.
Does that seem fair to you?
I thought not.
Love you, Smock. Bring me back a fried eel or something.