Rogue Robe: ROBERTS!

What skeleton did Obama unearth in his closet?

Why Fight When You Can Just Pout?

I thought the uprights were talking about moving into their own place.  They took a hike around a settlement where houses were selling cheap. But Oh My, weren't they beautiful?  And icky next door neighbors nowhere to be found.

Then they started fighting.

It turns out Mr. Upright just wanted to rent a cottage "for a year."

  Mrs. U just fell apart.

And that's about how May went. And now it's

gone.

And I am happy they've mostly forgotten the beautiful retreat on the mountain that could've been theirs.  But isn't.

Because of     la y  -  o f   f    fears.

Annual PILE Inventory

Getting nowhere,
Don't know why, tho.

Every pile has space
To grow;  OH

SO BIG that it's hard to see
Where projects end

And I begin:

PRIORITY:  FIRST
ITEM:  FAV FLAVOR PILE
(savor now, pay later flavor)
LOCATION: kitchen, dining room, living room, den, backyard

SECOND THING.
Proofread, bar

THIRD THING.
Bills, kitchen

FOURTH THING.
Needle-in-haystack, dining room

FIFTH THING.
Correspondence, dining room

SIXTH.
Event planning, livingroom

SEVENTH.
Current events and Constitutional studies, le bain

EIGHTH.
Scripture studies, bedroom

NINTH.
Non-Profit scrutiny, bedroom

TENTH.
Backlog, nightstand

ELEVENTH.
Plant science/American history, den

TWELFTH.
Daily mail sort and shred, kitchen

THIRTEENTH.
Move /stay /rent /sell,  den

FOURTEENTH. Art enterprise, enclosed patio

LAST WORD.
Commentary on art enterprise, enclosed patio

It's My Birthday, But.

I just don't want to.

Top: "...what my friends think I do, what my kids think I do, what the media says I do ('Women's Health')''

Bottom: what society thinks I do, what I think I do, what I actually do" (STANDTRUE.com)

It is only right to refuse birthdays until the legal open season against my pre-born demographic becomes illegal.

Womb Free

AmZyg, a wee little pre-emergent being, can escape the womb to zip around the narrow lanes and byways of the local foothills, unnoticed and free.

[Oh, wait.  A layer of dust on the computer screen. (Even en utero, dust collects on my wee, womb version of a desktop.) In a minute, I'll have electrostatically removed it of dust . . .

 There. I've just done next week's entire livingroom/diningroom/hallway dust/sweep chore.  A.D.D. alert.]

 The morning was supposed to be dedicated to prayer and car insurance, but the two tangled in the battleground of my mind until noon or thensome.  I'd already read Payne's Spritual Warfare for an hour, so the MIND-battlefield was pretty cluttered. I sought relief in the mindlessness of yesterday in pictures.

Sorting a week's worth of Camera+ App captures can kill an entire day...


- Tuesday's cuddle-up with a thick layer of spring fog on the mountains above Sierra Madre
- Thurdsay's warm rain. I stopped to grab iPhone impressions some thirty times throughout the day of sun and rain and sun and rain again.

TUESDAY

On December 1, 2011, trees aplenty fell high and hard

((8- O) "Wystaria Blossoms" long gone)

It is an odd world where a wee zygote can escape the womb for adventure in fog and rain and foothills.
She wonders oftener and oftener lately. . . why do you like it in there so much? There's a wide world out here waiting to be explored.

THURSDAY (I brake for clouds and shadows):

WHY CROP? Trucks can be poetical

TODAY, I rest assured that creation screams the glory of God; and I need to stop expecting that any day now we're going to get to move. Just put away the cleaning supplies and just start painting something. Blacks, deep umbers, dark magenta reds. Spill stuff everywhere. You'll feel better.