Stuck my foot in my mouth. Happens every single time I interject something into a conversation about politics, perfume or otherwise. Am I sorry I said it? No. Am I sorry it bothered you? Yes, because now I feel like I have to explain myself to put things back to rights. But I'm not going to.
Cryptic messages to the mysterious unnamed 'you' -- bothersome. So unlike me (anymore).
I'm getting ready to hit up some seed companies for heirloom seeds for veggies, and then in the back strip which serves as a back yard, I'm locating plants to put there that will attract the fluttery and buzzy insects. The deep freeze in December killed the majority of my flowering plants. Now with the balmy winter weather here (I know you folks in the rest of the USA don't want to hear this) all my surviving plants are beginning to bud early and flower. It's warm and breezy today so I opened the sliding glass door to the back strip to let in the air flowing in from the Pacific. Smells of salt and rain. Perfect napping weather.
A shipment of books came in today, mine, the evaluation workbooks. The cover looks amazing. I love the art nouveau look, and the colors. If you hadn't already noticed, I'm partial to autumnal colorations.
I thought I would sit and write a bit here today, but my son's got friends over and they're beating the hell out of a punching bag in the garage and it's terribly distracting.
I think I'll have that nap now. With a pillow over my ears.