219 Words. It May Be A Record And Qualify Me For The Olympic Trials.


I guess there was a bit of a bloggity vacation, and let me tell you, people:  It felt kind of good, because I didn’t have any pressure at night to plug right ahead and ruin a prepositional phrase for y’all to read and cringe at.

And really?  I think that this is more of just a check-in, to let y’all know that YES!  SOMEONE IS STILL BEHIND JEDI MAMA, INC., KEEPING THE HAMSTER WHEEL GOING.  And there will be real words and everything tomorrow night, but for now, I’m going to just go on ahead and close up shop for tonight.

It’s because today I shoveled dirt, and I fried chicken, and I spray painted a table.

I know.

It’s like I hardly even know myself any longer.

And now I’m trying to decide if I have enough energy to actually shower before I go to bed, or whether I should just crawl into bed smelling like King Kong’s armpit.  Decisions, decisions.

Until tomorrow, people…

…and I’ll leave you with this, because it made me giggle and raise my imaginary glass and shout, “Here, here!” in complete agreement.

Happy Sunday night, people.  And welcome back… again… to the blog where you can get a full dose of nonsense like it’s chocolate syrup on a bowl of ice cream.

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