DIG DIG DIG! There will be a GARDEN. I made the hole in the middle, which winds and is crooked. I live my life like a spider on LSD. HIGH KICKS. Beans are coming. I am also planting lemon cucumbers.

I went out last night, four course prix fixe, yum yum. It was blasting outside with wind and rain but my hair made it.

I don’t understand why people get dressed to the hilt and then use a bunch of perfume. I don’t like anything else I can taste while I’m eating. Also, I think most people smell pretty good on their own. That said, I like perfume…sometimes.

I mentioned this on the Twittergraph, but I jumped and ordered chicks. They will be here the 24th. The post office will call me. COOL AS HELL to get livestock ringaling. When I was a kid we lived in the middle of nowhere several times but didn’t really have animals. Too bad, it would have been the perfect opportunity for homesteading.

Yesterday I got my Valentines some trinkets to wear and left them at the places at the dinner table. Strudel came home teary, with hers broken.

“Her enemy yanked on it and snapped it,” Franny explained. Strudel has a bugbear of a boy in her class who is always doing things to her.

“Did you talk to him about it and tell him you were upset?” I asked.

“Yes,” Strudel said.

“Did he get into trouble?”

“No, the teacher just told us to sit down,” she said. I remember this type of injustice.

“Well, tell him he can’t ruin your things and you would like him to give you five dollars to replace it.”

Strudel looked away from me, out the window, thinking.

“I’m going to tell his mother,” she said.

“Yeaaah, that’s it, kid. Be polite but firm, ok?”

I dreamt that my breasts has edges on them like the corners of my eyes with things in them that looked like tear ducts. There were worms that I was pulling out of them! Someone told me this was normal. I think I’ve been looking at too much Frida Kahlo lately.