••• Friday, January 04, 2008

Rotten Apples of My Eye Candy 

I'm still working on my Baby New Year post.
Well, I'm still thinkin' on workin' on it.
It's complicated, all this thinkin'.
And related linkin'.


When we went to the cottage, we left a half-baked Christmas clean-up in our wake, which continues to be a bake in process. The problem is that we need to make room for the new loot. And it's at this point that things are getting back logged.

For example, I got a new Dutch oven for Christmas. In the cupboard where that should go, are several coffee cups that go with my everyday dishes. In my everyday coffee cup cupboard are Christmas dish coffee mugs, plus about a dozen memorabilia mugs collected over the years (including two mugs we had made up from Cakers' friend's artwork last year.)

So, before I can put away the Dutch oven, I have to find a new home for about 15 useless coffee mugs. On that note, Cabana is at this moment, clearing seven years of shit out of two storage rooms. Some of this stuff was never unpacked from when I moved in with my new husband. I had lots of storage at my divorcee home. Cabana's house was smaller and already furnished with most household amenities, so I left most of my crap in boxes.

Two years later, when I had a Cakers in the oven, we moved again. This house had much more room, but with a pending Cakers and all related organizational preps, there was no time to sort through the unnecessary stuff. And then a baby happened and the rest is a bunch of crap in boxes. ::One such box is currently being rifled through before my very eyes, as I type, which is a hint in spades for me to get off the keyboard and start moving coffee cups. And not just the one I'm currently drinking from.::

Here's today's eye candy. Rotten Apples In Snow.

When I previewed this picture after uploading it, Cakers happened to be standing next to me.

"Do you think that picture is interesting?" she asked.

"Yes. Do you?" I said.

She paused, tilted her tangled head just a tad enough to indicate polite condescension, and said in an almost apologetic tone, "Not really." then walked away, shaking her head.

And on that uninteresting note, here's a snow covered outhouse.

::I hate to shithouse and run, but I just now saved two pieces of my son's preschool artwork from going to the trash. Bastid. Fuck the coffee cups. I gotta get to the basement and open a box of whoopass.::

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