Migraine Day

It's a good day for a migraine, I think, as Tropical Storm Lee leaves me disappointed once again.  I missed Katrina by six months, not moving here until March of '06.  Then when Gustav came in with promises of havoc two years later I got all atwitter for nothing.  Peter was active duty Air Force back then.  He had orders to evacuate, which included his family.  I felt like a big ol' titty baby packing up and leaving like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs.  And for what, I ask you?  A whole lot of nothing, that's what. Gustav whimpered through with nothing but a couple of inches of rain.  I've taken more dramatic showers.

So, I'm sitting here, watching out the windows at the few piddly showers we're getting spit across the pasture. Big woop.  I'm not impressed.  Not a single tree branch has gone flying by, much less a cow like in the movie Twister.  I'm thoroughly disgusted.  I never get to have any fun.

We made an offer on a house yesterday, but because of the stupid holiday weekend we'll have to wait until Tuesday to hear anything.  My life is so boring; I don't know how I survive sometimes.  Ainsley just asked if we move, does that mean she has to clean out her closet?  I don't know, what do you think?  I'm thinking we should just get a shovel and back the truck up to the window and dump it all out.  Only the good Lord knows what's in there.

Can you imagine, a six bedroom house?  And for the first person that says we can have more kids, just know this:  I will slap you silly. I've got these'uns near grown and I ain't getting no more.  Notice these gray hairs that I've so artfully covered with buckets of hair dye?  Well, then.

In the new house, my sweet boy (that's Blitz, not Peter) gets his pasture in a blueberry patch.  Ain't that the sweetest thing?  There's about an acre of blueberry bushes, and my sweet boy will just love it.  My old geezer (that's Peter, not Blitz) gets a lake with a floating dock, so he can be happy too.   I guess if he's willing to work on a tugboat in the middle of a hurricane, I should be nice to him.  I should, right?

Well, anyway, I guess that's about it. I have a sick kid, feel a migraine coming on (really I just want a nap), and my house is a wreck.  That means I need a bigger one to stow my stuff. Six bedrooms should do it.

Happy napping, y'all.