Pointless

A few days after writing that last post, I went over to read Suburban Bliss, and damned if Melissa didn't rag on Spring in almost exactly the same way. Which makes me look like a big ol' copy cat, but I swear it was completely and bizarrely unrelated, like that time in college when my friend L and I started calling things "peachy" because we thought it was funny, and not a week later, Letterman started saying "peachy" to much positive audience response. Hrm.

I bought a little bistro table for the front porch, which is good because it means at least I can work outside and feel slightly less like some 40-year old guy living in his parents' basement.

My kids are darling so why do I get so frustrated with them? I have let the morning meditation slide, and I need not to do. I'm not getting enough exercise, either. I kinda all around suck right now, to be honest. Oh well.

I did, however, start a vegetable garden, with help from the Chica and Mr Chica. In a month, I'll be able to plant lovely plants, and maybe even help them grow. How groovy would that be?

The Boy has decided to grow his hair out long. I am fine with it, and his father said fine as well, but it'll be interesting to see if his dad can really go the distance. This is a guy who has his hair cut every 2 weeks. Maybe it won't bug him if it's somebody else's head, though. I did tell the Boy that if he wants it long, he needs to take care of it--wash it and brush it, etc., and let me just tell you, we're talking about the Bedhead King here.