Fribble's Blend

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Location: Jefferson City, Tennessee, United States

Published by: Hard Shell Word Factory (http://hardshell.com) and Awe-Struck E-Books (http://awe-struck.net)

Sunday, March 30, 2008

He's a Sweetie!

It's been a hard past few weeks. Loved having my grandson Egan here all last week. He's almost eleven and has developed a sense of humor. But he also has developed a deep and abiding love for his Wii. Hm.

The weather has been more dreary than fits my mood. I needed sunny. I was dealing with two flats of pansies -- and sore knees.

But the hardest part of the recent past is getting the news that Husband is diabetic. He's the last person you'd think would have the problem. He's the first person you'd think might ignore it.
Ah, but that Marine training kicked in full force. He is revamping our diet -- reading all the books, the ingredients. . .making sure I eat all the things he can't have anymore. I suspect they will never cross the doorstep again.

He started with a reading of 421, and ten days later, he's down to 112. I'm proud of him. But I've lost two pounds on his diet.

His new recipe for chocolate chip cookies rocks!

Monday, March 24, 2008

For Those Holding Their Breath . . .

About the outcome of the contest at Awe-Struck, THAT SPECIAL SOMEONE took second place in the short novel contest. No we all can get back to work.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

There Are Some Situations. . .

. . .When you take a breath and say: "There's a blog in here somewhere!" Yep, friends, there is!

There I was, holding the ladder to Husband so he could finish taking the eave trough off the front of the house. Lovely day, crocuses and daffodils all over the place, beautiful blue sky, which Son had just told me will be changing to possible tornado - force winds within the hour.

"Just another minute," Husband reassures me -- he thinks -- by now, I know better. There is the aluminum-screeching sound and YIKES! The sludge of wet, moldy decomposing leaves slithers out of the trough and downspout landing where, students? Not on a decrepit old flannel jacket that would have been thrown out years ago if I had not been swayed by promises of it not being worn anywhere that a stranger might have seen it. NO! On the helper's off-white, bulky sweater, with the zipper that goes from the neck line halfway down the front, so the sweater has to be removed over the head.

The noise you hear in the background (over the gnashing of teeth) is the washing machine.

Husband is reclining in the living room. It is so hard to get kids to take their naps. . .