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August is the month of strange dreams, hot days, warm nights, and allergies.
Every year my allergies go crazy during the Perseid meteor shower. Every year I think, 'that's silly, it won't happen again,' and then it does. And this morning, it has. Itchy nose, achy face, even a touch of scratchiness in the throat. Now I'm looking forward to the next rain.
Otherwise, things are going well. We're settling into the house nicely, I purged a lot of clothes that no longer fit from our closet last night, and now it feels really nice to look in there and see only clothes that I actually can -- and want to -- wear. Unfortunately, there's also now a need to do more shopping. I really do hate shopping. Between trying on beautiful clothes that don't fit, and finding that everything I like costs twice as much as I want to spend, shopping is depressing. I realize this is true for most everyone. But I'm the one complaining about it. There ought to be a better way.
Maggie's second birthday is next Tuesday, she's growing up fast. She can count to three, construct reasonably complete sentences, and make jokes. She loves music more than ever. She's passionate about change -- she hates it and doesn't hesitate to let the world know by screaming at the top of her lungs several dozen times a day. Last week, I made the "tolerate your toddler" book industry rich by acting on my desparation -- I ordered several books that promise to make my life better. Now, if only I could find time to read them.
Every year my allergies go crazy during the Perseid meteor shower. Every year I think, 'that's silly, it won't happen again,' and then it does. And this morning, it has. Itchy nose, achy face, even a touch of scratchiness in the throat. Now I'm looking forward to the next rain.
Otherwise, things are going well. We're settling into the house nicely, I purged a lot of clothes that no longer fit from our closet last night, and now it feels really nice to look in there and see only clothes that I actually can -- and want to -- wear. Unfortunately, there's also now a need to do more shopping. I really do hate shopping. Between trying on beautiful clothes that don't fit, and finding that everything I like costs twice as much as I want to spend, shopping is depressing. I realize this is true for most everyone. But I'm the one complaining about it. There ought to be a better way.
Maggie's second birthday is next Tuesday, she's growing up fast. She can count to three, construct reasonably complete sentences, and make jokes. She loves music more than ever. She's passionate about change -- she hates it and doesn't hesitate to let the world know by screaming at the top of her lungs several dozen times a day. Last week, I made the "tolerate your toddler" book industry rich by acting on my desparation -- I ordered several books that promise to make my life better. Now, if only I could find time to read them.
