Poop

When my babies were babies, I could handle poop. A poopie diaper … no big deal. It was sweet, little baby poop. Granted, it didn’t smell so sweet, but I could change the diaper without gagging. (Although there was that one time when K Belle had that leak...

No Rest for the weary.

Yes, weary. I like this definition of “weary”: having one’s patience, tolerance, or pleasure exhausted To be truly weary, you can’t even enjoy pleasure. You can’t rest. Beau and I just had a discussion about the phrase in the title of...
Sisters

Sisters

If I had a sister, I picture her as Rosemary Clooney. We would be like the Hanes sisters.  I would, of course, be the skinnier one (Vera Ellen) … hey, it’s my dream. There’s nothing better than this song. Devoted sisters. Caring. Sharing …....