Experimentality
The Art of Making Jam

Getting crotchety was not my intention

My computer has this power saving setting that dims the screen display when it's running on battery power.  Very earth friendly (you know, in this non-recyclable machine that will be obsolete in three years).  I am officially too old to see anything energy efficient.  Carting my butt back upstairs to retrieve the power cord makes me tired.  Grousing about it on the internet makes me... oh yeah, an old fart. Weeeeeee!

There are several excuses reasons I have not blogged lately.  I have chronicled them here for your condemnation perusal:

I am prepping for the beginning of kindergarten.

I am prepping for BlogHer.

I keep losing our kitten.  

I forgot.

Summer is going by really really fast and it's freaking me the fuck out.  Suddenly I have to shop for school uniforms.  Which, by the way, I am completely offended by, even if it will make getting ready in the mornings "easy".  Considering our school was just burnt down, I'm not convinced uniforms really cut down on hooliganism.  You want everybody calm?  I suggest something a little stronger than poly/cotton blend pique.  We're also still working on our Summer garage sale project, cleaning through every goddamn closet (but most importantly... the toys!), we've been on a major purge around here.  Which is turning into a Fall garage sale because by "we", I really mean me

Dude.   

Anywho, I'm skipping any BlogHer advice posts this year because if you haven't managed to learn how to shoot business cards from your cleavage I can't help you.  I am also NOT going to do the Everyone I Met at BlogHer wrap up post.  That was a lot of link love and my little fingers hurt.  Even though I do love you guys (awww, cue teddy bears).  

What I DO want to do is actually post.  I know, it's a radical concept.  Even if I am an old crotchety fuck who makes jam and complains about energy efficient light. (Don't get me started on the racket of light bulbs.) 

Oy! This should teach me not to blog after midnight.

I shouldn't be fed either.            - wg

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