Amazingly, the Uterus Really is a Homing Device

No kidding. We lost the cord to the popcorn popper, and everyone was having a fit. We recently decided to forego our microwave popcorn ways and turned to the old fashioned "Pappy Popper." Popcorn is a staple at our house, and it must be made a certain way. No more throwing the microwave bag into the nuker, no folks, it's only the REAL stuff for us now. And after everyone left me all the dishes to do, including the tabletop griddle (for pancakes), I inadvertently put away the popcorn popper cord with the griddle.

There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth and whining about where the popcorn popper cord went. I feigned innocence; after all, I did all those dishes, didn't I? About 2 hours ago I realised that I'd probably put it away with the griddle. So after 2 days of the popper sitting there with popcorn kernels marinating in oil, I got the griddle down from the top shelf of the laundry room closet, and voila! There's the cord!

The weeping and gnashing of teeth stopped and great was the rejoicing --and popcorn thereof!

I did get the painting in the Laundry Room finished on Saturday. I put a second coat of the orange on the walls, primed, and then semiglossed all the trim. The laundry room is done all but the floor. I still have to put down that rubber flooring.

I also, since I had a paintbrush with primer on it in my hand, I finally painted the cabinet above my fridge which had been the last holdout of the mustard yellow cabinetry we had when we moved in. What WERE those people thinking? Mustard yellow cabinets with forest green knobs. Lord have mercy! Thank God they're all gone now, having given way to a nice bright white with silver hoosier pulls. I didn't finish the cabinet, because it would have meant a trip out to the shed for the cabinet paint, which would have been frozen, and honestly, I was ready to fall down from fatigue. I've been ailing all weekend with a cold and sore throat.

I'm still not 100%, but I did finish up Rosie Red tonight. Here's JB modeling it:



So all the aprons I'd cut out are done. I think that I may have to do a few purses now, and then possibly have to take a time out and make myself one of my beautiful vintage dresses.

Tomorrow is Fat Tuesday, Mardi Gras, and oh the goings on in the french class. As I sit here and type, there are no less than 3 girls, all of whom are taking french, making bread pudding and discussing the pros and cons of languages and boys and lemon zest and the like. Probably the same as at your house -- just a lot louder and a LOT more giggling. It is honestly anyone's guess as to just how much bread pudding is actually getting made.

Well, it is late and I really am fading fast. I promised my good friend Michelle -- and here's a small town for ya -- Michelle who is both the tennis coach (Rose is our star tennis player) and the wife of Jeff the french teacher -- for whom the bread pudding is tomorrow -- Michelle who is buying a new house that needs work -- that I would help her paint her new house this week. Are you still with me? So far I've been home under the weather and useless to her. But I have high hopes for tomorrow. Hunk 'O Man asked me for a walk tonight, and we spent the most glorious half hour just walking around our neighborhood and talking about nothing in particular. It was wonderful, even like a date.

They really do sound like the bird section of a pet store. No kidding.

P.S. Somebody put away the cereal. It was a phantom job done on the sly. I suspect Hunk 'O Man. . . gotta go. Somebody needs the itchy cream and nobody can find it. My uterus is needed.