Dear Time,

     Where did you go?  Twelve years ago today my sweet baby girl was born.  I still remember the fat rolls bulging out from between the doctor’s fingers when he held my little girl up the minute she was born, that blood-curdling cry and all that hair.  Jet black and thick and so unruly strangers would later tell me I could make it “lay down” with a little bit of baby oil.

     Er…no.  Her hair had character.  (And still does.)

     I still remember the smell of baby lotion and Desitin ointment and her gummy smile.  The way she would spit out a pacifier and plug her fingers into her mouth instead.  I remember her sitting in the floor, twirling her feet in circles and laughing at her big brother.  I remember snuggling her close, taking her to the park to feed the ducks only to realize that she’d crammed the stale bread into her mouth instead of sharing with the birds.  I remember her sweet laugh and the way she loved her johnny-jump-up.  I remember her sleepy smile and baby kisses, dimpled knees and little feet.

     :::sniff, sniff:::

    And now she’s twelve.  A whole dozen.  She’s wearing a bra and little bit of make-up and spends most of her time on the phone.  But she’s still–and will always be–my sweet baby girl.  And that, dear Time, you will never be able to take away from me.

     ~Rhonda

PS–Happy Birthday, my sweet girl.  I love you.

I’m ranting at the Soapbox Queens today.  Come share a pet peeve with me.

…which no doubt died of dehydration…but I AM SO SICK OF THIS HEAT!!!!!

Seriously, I know that it’s August and that I live in Alabama–my darling kids point this out every time I whine about being hot–but I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.  No rain, 10 straight days of 100+ degree heat.  My flowers are dying, despite the water I’ve been pouring over them.  The grass is brittle and brown.  The unit is running non-stop and it doesn’t actually cool off in here until around midnight.  Sweet Lord, how I dread our power bill.  We could probably take a small vacation for what that baby is going to be this month.

I wonder if they’re still doing that homestead thing in Alaska.  Cooler climate, Northern Lights…it’s an option.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

In which I share my dirty laundry.  Literally.  I have captioned this picture

“How To Break My Spirit”

     

 In happier news, I am chatting today at eHarlequin at 11:00 Eastern if you’d like to drop by and say hello.

Here’s the link.

Simply login under your eHarlequin username when prompted and the password is BROWNBAG. 

(Because it’s a Take An Author To Lunch chat.   ) 

  Guess what?  I’m whining about school again.  Yes, yes, I know it’s getting tedious.  I’m sorry.

BUT…

A couple of weeks ago here we had a tax free weekend on back-to- school supplies.  It would have been nice if we’d had the teacher lists from the school beforehand so we could have taken advantage of that benefit.  After all, school is expensive enough and every little bit helps.  But, alas, we didn’t get the lists. 

Instead we got them last Friday, a week late. 

Fine.  Moving on. 

But once again, in addition to the first round of lists there are even more lists–lists which are adding up to more than another $80 in addition to the $200 worth of supplies we’ve already gotten.  And did the upper-grade teachers get together and discuss the logistics of EACH of them asking for a 2 or 3 inch binder per class???    Where, pray tell, are the kids supposed to put all these binders, not to mention the books?  We’re talking 21 inches of binder–the things won’t all fit in their backpacks.  Couldn’t they combine some of the binders?  Why does every teacher have to have a binder unto themselves?  Is this a status thing?  I just don’t get it. (And if you are a teacher and you are reading this, I do not envy nor want your job and have a tremendous amout of respect for the work that you do.  Really.  It’s just this one little issue that has me annoyed….  )

Also, both of my kids have to dress out for P.E. and the shorts must be purchased through the school.  Given my why-can’t-we-go-to-uniforms rant from a couple of weeks ago I find this intensely ironic.

  Argh!!!! 

**I’m blogging at The Soapbox Queens today, too, where it is “Wicked Wednesday” and I promise it’s a much happier topic.

Let’s play a new game.  This is called How Hot Is It?

I’ll go first. 

Here in Northern Alabama it’s 100 degrees with a heat index of 107.  In other words, it’s what us Southerners like to call Damn Hot.  (Not to be confused with a cheerful “Hot Damn!” which has a completely different connotation.)

Your turn.

My dh recently installed a cool new programmable thermostat to help reduce our heating/cooling costs.  I thought this was wonderful…until I realized that I don’t know how to work it.  I can’t change the settings and I’m frying in here.  Argh!  What?  Is this PRISON?  Today, I am going to find the directions for the bloody thing and figure out how to work it.

Also, my writing hidey-hole has gone high-tech.  On would think this would be good…but it’s not.  I don’t need internet access when I’m trying to work.  I emailed Jen from the bookstore yesterday and shared these three words.

I.AM.DOOMED.

What about ya’ll?  Come on!  Share the whine!

One word.  Mosquitoes.

The only good thing about the recent drought was the lack of the little bloodsuckers which inhabit my yard.  Then the rain came, preventing us from cutting the grass, and now you can’t go outside without getting eaten alive.

Don’t like it.

In fact, I absolutely hate it.  I’m having to spray sticky repellent all over me and the kids just to take the dog out to do his business.   Number one item on my dh’s Honey Do List–fog the yard.

Too much to do, not enough time! 

I’m leaving for Dallas in the morning for the RWA conference.  (It actually started today, but…  ) Anyway, I stil have to get my nails done, hair done, pack, pick up a few little things that I need.  Shoes for my RITA dress, diet Mt. Dew for the room, some sort of cool hair clippy-thing, a better pair of black earrings.  And the list goes on and on.  Today is the last day of Vacation Bible School, with the big Avalanch Ranch Round-up and Supper tonight.  I have to get the kids things together, pay bills, make sure the dog is taken care of, etc…  So it’s not just me I have to get ready–which is enough–but the fam, too.    I’m exhausted already.

But I will get to see Harry Potter with Precious and a couple of other huge HP fans and that will make it all worthwhile.  

It would also be nice if I could win a RITA.  Will let you all know how that goes when I get back…

My daughter had five little girls spend the night last night for a belated end-of-the-school-year party.

 ’nuff said.