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My Little Brother, (not so little, he is 42,) stopped by for a visit last night. I am still recovering. We are so related, it isn't funny.







We laughed, we drank, (I am so off the wagon,) we danced, we put makeup on the dog. We came up with band names. Tits and Indifference is the only one I remember.

I have been feeling so freaking' low, and seeing him, at this moment, was wonderful. There are things that only family and very old friends can know and share and relate to, and it did me so good to be with him and talk about certain issues.

Sweetie and I really need to just get away from Lovely LA, (forever,) and so that is my goal. I hear that Laguna Beach is nice.

And by the way, Little Brother turned me onto Pandora Radio. Nice.

Please check here for change.

Use Caution.

So why do I wonder why I ache so much? The bruise, she has gotten larger yet is softer to the touch.

Bustling Hedgerows

This is my least favorite Ed Led song, but is so sweetly rendered here.

No parking.

I'm feeling quite sorry for myself today. I think I am also feeling my age, not that almost 53 is aged, but, I am having to come to terms with not being 25, 35, or even 45 any more or ever again. Damn it.

I am considering downsizing my bunny herd, especially after my recent fall, which was not my first down those steps. Then there were the nine staples in my head from an ill-conceived bunny chase, back in '04.

I haven't been in my studio since October, although every morning, I get up and tell myself, let's go card some angora!

It got up to 16º outside today, which I can cope with, but the wind has been bad and it always just sucks the warmth out of the house. (Should I just be happy not to have to bring in firewood and tend two wood stoves everyday? For not having to do that, I am pleased. Wood stoves are charming for about a week, then the hatred of ashes and the fear of chimney fires take over.)

Today, to relieve the furnace, I set the thermostat at 60º and brought the space heater into the living room. I cut up cardboard strips and stuffed them into the front door to quell the draft, and draped two shawls over the doorway leading to the kitchen.

Fugsley shat on the kitchen rug this morning, shortly after being outside.

I am cold and miserable and worry about finances. I look like an Eskimo in my layers of sweatpants and sweaters.

I feel overwhelmed, old, ugly, grumpy, tired and sad.

But, it's going to warm up by Monday, at least to above freezing, and so far the chickens and bunnies still live.

At least I'm not in Fargo, ND. Note the wind chill.

Now in Lime Green

Fleegle's Blog: Rana Pilosus

Unpack carefully.

Where is Carl when you need him?