Gone Like a Cat Outta Hell

Today is Saturday and it's 114 degrees outside and I really want to be kicking back in my Clampett Oasis right now.

Instead, I'm ready to go on a trip that I'm not sure is happening (and by ready, I mean mindset, not packed), wondering whose yard the cat that rejected me is in, and pondering if men over 50 find hairy legs attractive these days.

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

Going Through It

A couple Fridays ago, I had the bright idea of having a margarita "party" in my brother's backyard. 

By "party" I mean my sister, sis-in-law and maybe one neighbor. 

I wanted to set up a few wading pools under a camping shade awning and have a budget pool party, Beverly Hillbillies style.

The Day My Dog Made Enemies of Pretty Much Everyone

It was a pretty eventful weekend over here in Splitsville.

Friday, as I sat at my makeshift desk on wheels and looked across my tiny, borrowed room at my makeshift bed in the corner, I began to get a little down about my current situation.

Don't get me wrong, I'm enormously grateful to my brother for giving me a place to lay my head, but I was feeling a little cooped up and needed a change of scenery for a day. 

My Life Imploded But I Got Some Free Makeup

It's been longer than I intended since I last wrote. Yet, shorter than I expected. I know that makes no sense.

But the thing is, when traumatic things happen in my life, I tend to submerge, isolate, withdraw, and all those emotionally unhealthy synonyms one does when they are hurting.

The last time major upset happened in my life was in August 2017 and it took me over two years to start blogging again. 

Post-Pandemic Margarita Preparations

How are you holding up? I mis-typed that as "holing up" and corrected it, but really, either of those fits.

What is this, week 7...or is it 8, since we've been staying home? I'm not sure, but it's long enough that calendars have lost their point and even homebodies like myself are ready to venture out a bit.

I'm glad restrictions are starting to ease up some. I'm ready to get gussied up and go out for margaritas.

A Riveting Tale of Our Weekend

How was your weekend?

Ours was quite boring by most people's standards, but I was perfectly happy with it and I'm going to tell you about it because really, nothing else is going on over here.

We took the dogs for a walk and saw colorful, happy messages on the sidewalk, which I loved.

New Normals

I'm anxious. Are you anxious? I'm anxious.

Something about not being able to run to the store for an ingredient I need without donning a hazmat suit first makes me anxious. So I don't make the recipe because I can't get the ingredient and who wants to battle stores right now anyway.

And not being able to make that recipe makes me feel like I have no control. And feeling like I have no control makes me anxious.

Is this your brain right now too?

They'll Eat Me First in a Zombie Apocalypse

Well, if a global pandemic doesn't get me to blog, I don't know what will.

Even my dog is paranoid of catching it. She was sleeping soundly until I sneezed, then shot her head up and gave me this look, "Cover yer mouff, mom. Gawd!"

When I last left you, it was December and I wrote about our TomHanksgiving.

But the whole world has changed since then and no one wants to be Tom Hanks's neighbor right now.