I am forgetful. Or perhaps it's just that I have eschewed my list-making for the summer. Without lists I have discovered the sieve-like qualities of my own brain. Tell me all your secrets now, because I can guarantee them forgotten by next week.
(for those of you who just come for the photos, skip to the end)
So a few posts back I mentioned going for an MRI.
I did go for one, and I felt ridiculous laying on a table with my breasts in a hole. Then I got the results of my MRI: your cyst is benign! We don't know what's causing your symptoms. Here's our bill!
I personally feel like I shouldn't have to pay my bills until I get a proper diagnosis. "Sometimes that just happens" is not a diagnosis. Western medicine can be a little silly at times.
I have been out in the garden every morning, talking to the plants, begging the plants, PLEADING with them to produce food. The bush beans are awesome and happy to oblige. The strawberries are coming around to my charms. The squash remain resolute and will give me only blossoms.
I am counting down the days until my next big adventure. There are nine. The kids will be going to the in-laws for their annual summer holiday and I will be going to Birmingham to visit with my Aunt & cousin, and get Nana's house prepped for the estate sale. Do you know what this means?! Do you?! FIVE WHOLE DAYS of adult company. FIVE WHOLE DAYS without refereeing fights, reminding people to wash hands, and preparing balanced meals. I plan to subsist on beef jerky and red wine. Not really. But I could if I wanted to.
And now I have to get ready for work.
Adrian and Rhianna
Fiona with her birthday cake and princess dress.
That's pretty much what I look like every time I try to dress up.
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