All great truths begin as blasphemies.
George Bernard Shaw
Mood:
Sick
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There is nothing to read here. The content is over there, to your right.
I may, however, at some point, put something here. Some day. Eventually. No pressure.
nul x 2
I was pulling up old carpet in the middle of a blackout at midnight. For as much as I've tried to teach my kids that thunder and lightening storms are beautiful and welcomed, they were both still uneasy, standing around holding flashlights so I could keep working.
Because I am evil, and because my feet hurt so much, I told them the legend of the wendigo. Nothing like a little ghost story to make the kids more attentive, I say.
This entry has no value except that it's a memory I don't want to forget. It was our last night in the old house.
Was talking with my friend E. on Yahoo! IM this afternoon. She always makes me feel better. I just wish she didn't live clear across the bloody country.
There's just nothing to be said.
Take care of you.
.dar.
Because I am evil, and because my feet hurt so much, I told them the legend of the wendigo. Nothing like a little ghost story to make the kids more attentive, I say.
This entry has no value except that it's a memory I don't want to forget. It was our last night in the old house.
Was talking with my friend E. on Yahoo! IM this afternoon. She always makes me feel better. I just wish she didn't live clear across the bloody country.
There's just nothing to be said.
Take care of you.
.dar.
Read/Post Comments (2)
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