••• Thursday, February 10, 2005

The Road to Recovery is Paved with Lugies
I’m feeling muchly better, thank you. Although yesterday, the school nurse asked me if maybe I had pneumonia. I don’t. My body is just cleaning house. And it ain’t a pretty sight, or sound.

For whatever reason, most of this cleansing has been taking place on the drive to work in the morning. This is a problem on account of the fact that I can't spit. To save my life.

No, really. I’m a spittard.

I can drop it. Drip it. Or Drool. But I have no projection. No arc. No velocity.

In a true lugemergency while driving, I have to resort to actually opening my car door at a stop light, to drop it like it's hot, hopefully on the pavement. But usually on the running board. Or in the map cubbie on the door. Or my lapel. ::The latter of which really bugs me, since I can do that without drawing attention to my business at a busy intersection::

Yesterday, on the ride to work, the green lights were working against me. This meant I had to dribble out my car window, while in motion. By the time I arrived at work, the bloog had crystallized on the pane.

But isn't that why God invented ice scrapers?

Knittin' Knuttins'
I knit last night for the first time in a week. Because I only had an hour available, I just worked on my coffee shop yarn scarf. It's been another one of those weeks, so far, with 2 basketball games, a meeting to plan the basketball banquet, and my maiden voyage running the concession stand. I should be able to squeeze at least one good post out of one these activities, but not today.

Maybe tomorrow (or, as The Cakers would say "Not today. Maybe next year." )

Speaking of....Here's a shot of my girl on her Sick. Not. Day. last Friday. She called me into the play room to show me her new trick.

"Look Mommy! I'm a parrot!"
I hope I'm up for this one....

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