What the...! There's a frog in the bathtub!
OK. I know you didn't just say what you just said, so what did you really say?
Oh, good grief! There's a frog in the bathtub...tree frog to be exact.
He's not talking...just says he took a wrong turn, so don't even ask.
He's out in the garden now.
Life's full of questions never answered.
Isn't it grand?
Blogger no longer recognized my up-to-date Internet Explorer as valid, and for a month I could no longer work my blog. Begrudgingly, because I shouldn't have had to do this, I downloaded Google Chrome as a search engine and was able to post again. BUT...I can't leave replies to any comments I receive. I have everything set as Blogger informs me it should be set and still nothing. Java is as it should be, so perhaps it's the Vista program. Anyway...even though I have wanted to leave some replies to comments left, it will never happen anytime soon. I feel like I'm dog paddling myself to nowhere and beyond.
Husband will be spending roughly four hours next week having a cancerous growth removed from his cheek. It hasn't been in his favor that he waited way too long to have it checked, despite the pressures coming from me to behave differently. He seems destined to always be an after-the-fact type of guy. You know...I'll start worrying about losing my leg after I've lost it...type of guy. Drives me bonkers! I'm worried.
I'm told I use people and things as scapegoats when I don't get what I need out of life. I'm mulling this over, but this opinion doesn't really boost me anywhere except downward. I do know that I'm losing my creativity as certain forces are becoming fixtures in my life. I'm struggling with this blog to cough up anything worth reading. I'm struggling with everything creative in my life, except the gardens; but I tend to view the gardens as a craft of sorts. I find crafts easier, no matter how difficult the endeavor.
I'm BORED with the Panama saga. I feel like I'm writing it with one arm tied behind my back, my fingers taped shut, cheesecloth wrapped around my eyes, and both feet crammed into shoes two sizes too small. I'm crazy enough to try warping the story, adding a subplot, and writing fiction. With my writing style a bit out of control and my creativity drought in full swing, I think I'm asking for trouble, but I've never been one to just sit around doing nothing for very long. My first chapter sucks! I don't think I write like normal people. I don't think normal people will want to read this junk. It's a bit dark...it's a lot dark. I'm going to leave this topic alone for a while.