If Quentin Tarantino was an 18 year old cowboy wannabe, then I saw him today I swear.
I also saw (or heard) a dog that sounded just like a pig.
And shag carpeting. Yeah, that’s what it was.
The pressure of an approaching downpour put me to sleep on the couch.
And I felt all morning as though Nick was driving me down a windy dirt road blindfolded. Until he did drive me. THEN I felt better. It must have been the wine.
Nick learned that white plastic deck chairs do not fit in the trunks of small cars. I wonder if he’s ever owned a small car???
And my youngest daughter told me I was dressed as though I didn’t care, and then made me change. But I don’t care.
I should go to bed now. I miss the days when the kids go to bed at a decent hour and I have time alone. But this is for your entertainment (and that’s not a string, that’s a weird corner in the wall behind him):