It’s time for more experimental cookery. This time, chicken with White Castle dressing.

We’re having corned beef and potatoes tonight, since Steve doesn’t like cabbage. I know we’re early, but it just sounds good.

I wanted to make chili but have almost zero actual ingredients in the house. I did find a can of black beans that was marked “best before November 2005.” Oops.

I’m a member of a messageboard where some conversations have turned to clutterers/hoarders/people living in squalor. I’m so freaked out now that I’m desirous of giving about half of the stuff I have away.

So, if you know of stuff that I have that you want? Tell me! I’ll even wrap it.

I didn’t realize how hermity I’ve been until I got an email wondering if I had been kidnapped by aliens.

Nyet! I am here. Just being incredibly lazy and off-kilter from the prolonged vacation from work. It’s going to be such a shocker to go back.

I kinda sorta thought I might have a chance to write. But no. I have nothing to say, it seems.

I could write a julain about how I smashed my finger in a cupboard door earlier today. Let’s see.

Showing their teeth

The cupboard doors have never met so well
as when they had a chance to crush my hand.
I start to think they had this whole thing planned.

Or perhaps:

Hay(na)ku for a cupboard door

Remember,
I could
adopt a termite.

That’s what I got a bucketload of for Christmas.

And only one that I had already read. The husband is a good book picker outer, he is.

Christmas Day is, honestly, one of my least favorite of the year. I always feel like I’m trapped, with nothing to do. It’s purely a reaction to nothing being open, but knowing that I’m a spaz does nothing to prevent me from showing that I’m a spaz.

Okay, maybe it’s less art and more fun with food, but still. Owls!

Steve got me a camera for our anniversary. Expect more really thrilling pictures like this. Owls!

It would only be temporary, my wealth.

I want money so I could give it away.

I feel a strong need to give. There’s a local animal rescue organization that I’d love to be able to help out more than I can.

I want to be suddenly rich so that I don’t miss it when I’m suddenly poor again.

Just got home from celebrating our 10 year anniversary. It wasn’t a romantic evening, since we were with my sister and my niece, but it was a ton of fun.

Ten years. I can hardly believe it. Ten years ago today we were in Washington DC and I was suddenly Julie Carter. I’ve told Steve that no matter what, I’m never giving him back his name. I don’t care if he turns into an ax murderer, I’m staying a Carter. Much better than the unpronounceable, unspellable German surname I grew up with.

They didn’t get the results they expected from the IVs, so it’s just a matter of time.

I’ve got a lap full of Irv, the Barnacle.

Before I lose her, I should make a recording of the way she likes to sing along with people. She’s very musical. At least as talented as half the people on radio.

Yeah, the one who is going to get eaten by a bear because of the other penguins. The one with the cymbals? Resting happily on a floe somewhere, the bastard.

Irving is responding well to the IV treatment in kitty ICU.