I feel so often that I should try to broaden my readership, when, in truth, I should remember to narrow it. I feel the need to apologize; I've gotten off track, again, and I will, again.
I want to be liked, but, when I change the way I am for you to like me, I usually regret it.
So let's try to get back on track.
There's a keeper box around here, and another staging area for potential keepers and, finally, there are archives waiting to self-combust under my bed and in the closet. Oh and various piles on my desk; I'm not really sure where those go. It's a convoluted process.
When the boys came home from school with rented wheelbarrows full of papers and stories and paintings and laminated birthday books and more pencils and markers then we sent them with, we didn't really have the
However I did glean some really great stuff, like these horse pictures from N:
I've seen horses "in love" and that's not how I recall it. Don't horses have longer tails and seem a little less happy than these guys. I think they are neutered unicorns.
This is not a horse, but it was mixed in with the horse "pichers":
I believe it's a member of the Transylvanian Olympic ski-jumping team, or, uh, something else
I found this interesting math equation:
I still don't know if that one's right or not. He seemed sure it was.
There is one more thing I'd like to add today. I think the boys have been missing school a little bit so they decided to have a school for their stuffed animals, well, only a select few - you know how elite these things can be. They figured out a plan and what they should do, and, there's a schedule:
Check out the nine-thirty slot, "learning to love."
Our work here is done.
From Marci's "... things you don't expect to hear from the backseat ..."
“It used to be a maraca ... now I want it to be a spaceship."