Golly, today was full of...posts. Nothing like stupid job stuff to cause a buildup of gassy humours and dispeptic thoughts, and nothing like having a Possumblog around in order to get them all down onto pixels. And even with all this stuff, and you still haven't heard all of the stories from the home front--Oldest Girl going to school all dressed up for her Social Studies project on ancient Egypt and being made fun of by the mean girls in her class; Middle Girl's graphic descriptions of puppy nativity while at her friend's house; Little Boy being forced to bare his boney little chest in a shirts-vs-skins game with a team of GIRLS; nor of Tiny Terror's debut on the soccer field.

Of all of them, the latter is probably the best story, not because she's so great on the field, but because she was so worn out from running around that the moment she hit the bed last night, she was out like she had been hit with a stick.

No multitude of getting back up to check on Stuffed Kitty, or Nother Stuffed Kitty, or Barbie Kitty, or Horsey, or Barbie, or Barbie with Brown Hairs, or to find out what tomorrow's name is, or to look at her mosquito bites in the bathroom mirror, or to get into Rebecca's bed and hide, or any number of other things she manages to invent to keep from going to sleep.

Last night, she was just a sack of wet sand.

Well, scratch that--she managed to also stay dry the entire night, for which I am now knocking on wood with crossed fingers. She's almost made the border of No More Accidents several times, but each time the guards find her and spray her down before she can reach the wire (or the pot).

She did do pretty good at soccer, though. Last night was a doozy--we had three of the four (gosh, they're turning into Borgs!) out at the park and they were on three different fields. I tried to keep an eye on everyone from one vantage point, but that was nearly useless other than to make sure if one got hurt I would at least know about it. Luckily, Reba was there to stay with Cat down on her field--she definitely requires watching (Catherine, that is, not Reba. Although...naw, better not say it...)

Stuff around the ol' Maison d'Possum has slowly been winding down to Early Fall Status, meaning there's nothing growing except mimosa, which has gotten a stranglehold on our little flower bed outside the kitchen. Overnight. If I were a good yeoman, I would put on some gloves and pull it all up. Instead, I have decided to spend my time idly musing about how great it would be to invent a robot mimosa puller that looked just like Norah O'Donnell. Now THAT would be cool! Certainly beats actually having to yank that mess up.

This being a long weekend means that there will be no Possumblog come Monday as I celebrate the contributions of the American worker by doing absolutely nothing productive (aside from watching Auburn-USC on the TV). I hope each of you are likewise lethargic and return refreshed and ready to go come Tuesday morning.

So now, let's draw a chalk outline around this week and throw a sheet over it and head for the house.

See you next week!
posted by Terry at 4:47:00 PM