Spoiler alert: an extremely long, rambling, and probably quite boring exposition on our last six days of existence here on Egan Street. Consider yourself warned.
My to-do list for today very plainly says, “Don’t blog until after weekend,” with a row of smilies after it, but I’m realizing that since I’ve started blogging again, I tend to write about the good. And mostly just that. It’s easier to post cute pictures and expound on the toddler and his kitty than it is to even try to begin delving into the hard.
But if there’s any time to try, it might be now. Because it’s been hard. There hasn’t been a lot of sweet or cute or easy. And maybe instead of waiting till I have something fun to write about, I should just jump in now.
So at the risk of sounding like I’m complaining, here goes . . . ...continue reading
Paws was a lonely little kitty, until one day a mangy, ugly brown and black cat showed up at our back door. And kept showing up. We had our Claws, and the name couldn’t have been a better fit.
We saw a very small amount of Roth’s.
A cheap little poinsettia from Waremart. My mom almost always has a poinsettia at Christmas, and since it’s such a cheery, decorative flower in and of itself, I usually can’t resist getting one either. 
