Tits and a Dead Terrorist!

Facebook won't let people post photos of breastfeeding mothers but yesterday I was inundated with pictures of a dead terrorist. I read comments about drawing and quartering a human, letting people spit on a grave, parading a decapitated head around the country for all to see. If these thoughts are less offensive than milky breasts to the public then we have lost our way.

Little Things

-Stickers

-Instant coffee and strudel

-Cool dry breezes

-Tropical bird noises

-Sleepy children with dirty feet

-Old photos

-Threadbare t-shirts

-Polka

A Boy

I am please to announce I am building a brand new person. I've been working on it for some months and was anxious to find out if I'd been putting all the things in the right places and all the parts were in working order. This morning I had a specialist double check my work and it seems I've done a great job of assembling all the pieces, especially since this person has different parts than the first person I built. I hope to unveil my project in late June early July.

My Baby's Breath

I am all abuzz today having eaten my way through several boxes of my preferred proof of love. Yes, above all else even diamonds and long stem roses I adore sweets. I actually said to my dearest "You know I will measure how much you love me by how big the heart box is" as fair warning and in true blue fashion he took heed. I'm sure the check out person thought he had a harem. In return I bought him a healthy dose of irony; black liquorice. I will not even stand in the same room with him while he munches them and if he accidentally breathes in my general direction on the same day he's eaten a piece I react as if he's eaten a pot of cabbage and burped right on me. Ella loves the vile little squares and likes to chomp and smack them as close as she can get to me because when your five years old things that make your mother almost hurl are hilarious. Hope your Valentines Day was sweet too.