Bits & Pieces

I need to redecorate around here. There's about to be a lot of painting going on. My goal is to buy almost everything second hand. We need some storage furniture because we have one closet in the entire apartment. I am not even kidding. ONE. Anyway, we've been in our apartment for almost a year, and I've never really done anything to make it ours. This comes, I think, of having just been in survival mode. We really haven't had any extra money, we haven't even had enough money. So of course the tax refund check makes me REALLY HAPPY. Effervescent, even. I've been looking for inspiration online and in magazines, and I have so many ideas it's actually overwhelming.

On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, dinner is delivered to my house. A friend of mine put the word out that I had broken my right arm and was unable to do much of anything, so people are chipping in to help out. It's really blown my mind. Some of the people I know, some I only know on Facebook, and some I don't know at all. Tonight a woman I'd never met brought over a beautiful dinner: zucchini Dutch cheese casserole, spinach and strawberry salad, and apple strudel. Each time I am floored, and I just don't think a simple 'thank you' is quite enough. I'm totally taking advantage of this as a way to get some new foods onto our regular rotation because we've been in a total dinner rut lately. When people ask what we want, I tell them to please make something they enjoy making. Anyway, I know some awesome people.

This inability to do things is kind of making me nutty. My typical day starts a 5 AM, throw on some clothes and walk my dogs until 6:30 or 7:00, go to work until 3:30, walk my dogs some more, check over Justin's schoolwork and get him set for the nest day, throw together dinner, make sure all the kids are clean and Cailey's homework is done, do some housework......and on. And on, until about 11:00 and then I can sleep. There's not much sitting and relaxing. Also, with all that walking, I wonder why I am not foxy.

I feel like I am talking to myself on this blog. Am I unreadable? Do I totally suck? What do people like to read about in someone's blog?

A bunny, outside an art studio on my street.