Sunday, August 7, 2011
don't swing on the swing you have premonitions against.
my ankle hurts.
picture this swing, but me with short hair talking on the cell with my dear friend pj.
next scene: me on the ground, inner left ankle bruised and scraped by either the swing or the broken limb or both, and me nearly hyperventilating.
pj witnessed it all via cell.
how lucky is she.
and just the other day, i heard anna telling ben to take the swing down . . . could've been avoidable. dangit.
this picture made me cry.
and suddenly. i miss gram a lot. the very much alive, sparkling, humorous, gram.
what? coffee at 9:58pm . . . psh, normal. well, if it's decaf. but it's required for comfort. it just is.
ankle comfort . . . missing loved ones comfort . . . i dunno.
this is just a post to remember when i'm old.
random life stuff before i post a recipe.
white collar and i'm thoroughly gone. hook line and sinker. i love this show. and i do believe that i'm one of the last people out of everyone i know to join in the love of it. sigh. better late than never;)
how's your week going? did you do anything good or interesting or exciting or bad or lazy on this lovely sunday? the weather was lovely, that's what i'm sure of.