The second bit of news is that my piece-of-shit mac is back, and so far it has been behaving really really well. Lets not jump the gun, though, and get too excited.
The third bit of news is that I my feet have grown since I was 11. It's kinda sad really. My heels still fit in the slots, but the rest of my foot doesn't.
Another interesting development is Daddy's culinary failure. Who would have thought such a thing to be possible. But here you have it. I've named it Vegetable Porridge (please, sir, may I have some m-m-more?). It looks like something Cocoa barfed up, and while I can't attest for how Cocoa's vomit tastes, this tasted like spicy regurgitation.
Stevie's new book is almost complete. I think I have maybe 2 or 3 more pages to do. I don't know what to call it yet, though. The first one was just called Stevie and Bobo. I was thinking "Stevie and Bobo's Grand Adventures," but that doesn't quite cut it. This painting makes me sad though, because I'm the one who would most likely be there with her...that exact position. J and D, as mentioned before, have weird sleep issues.
This is the remains of the aloe plant. Cocoa, in one of her frequent moments of insanity, decided that she needed to eat it. You have to wonder, don't you, what goes on inside that head of hers. I mean, aloe tastes really bitter like rubbing alcohol, and she didn't just nibble at it. She consumed about 7 or 8 of the fat, 12 inch spikes.
Have no fear, Shosha, the Africa water hasn't eaten through the plastic of the Voltic bottle yet, though the sometimes I hear the foreign microbes and microscopic parasites talking to each other at night.
This is what I would look like if I was an Anne of Green Gables doll. Oh wait, I think I would be Diana.
I really think I should be getting workman's comp for having to sleep upstairs. This is the stripped room with a hole in the floor. I have to dodge rusty nails sticking up our of wooden planks...really. I actually don't think I'm up to date on my Tetanus. Wouldn't it be fun to go to the emergency room again. Wonder if hospitals are cheaper here?
In my own little corner of my own little room. This is what Shosha's room looks like now that I have moved into it. Though I'm not sure where I'm going to go when Shosha comes back. Somebody is going to have to move out into the camper. I hope it is me. I wonder what Jennifer would say if she saw the product of my unique interior design style. I hope she'd be traumatized.
I have re-established my "thinking space." I used to sit up on the roof, but I've become nervous in my old age, so I just stare out from the sill.
The best bit of news is that I have taken up my hammer with a vengeance and glorious things have happened in the garden. I mean business. More later, because this post is seriously busy already.
