Sugar Gliders

I've always (pretty openly) laughed at girls who pick an animal to obsess over and then plaster their walls and cars and notebooks and desks with all that animal crap...you know what I mean, like the dolphin girls? They put dolphin figurines and pictures everywhere...those girls are weird... some girls do weird stuff like that, they obsess over horses too, and frogs...I never got it. Then I bought sugar gliders... I'd never even heard of them until I was enlightened in a gun show in Utah of all places. I saw them, and it was instant love, like heart to heart. I was smitten. I eventually bought two. A boy and a girl, Stitch and Dingo respectively. They are tiny little things with personality just oozing from their teeny bodies. They're marsupials, and they probably have some tazmanian devil in them too...

A Penitent Heart

I haven't logged in since October...that was like 5 months ago...in my own defense I've been busy, but I guess justification is the first sign of a subconsciously guilty soul. Instead of excusing myself I'll attempt to distract you with my wit and charm....ummm...give me a day or two...

The Beautiful Wedding Moth Thing

I was just strolling around in a big white dress one day and it was hot outside, like really hot, so I looked for a little shade spot to cool down in before venturing back out into the sun. I found a little spot and discovered a huge butterfly looking thing on the ground and it looked like it was dying. I thought it would make for an interesting picture if I picked it up because then I would look like a beautiful overly dressed nature goddess to whom all the little creatures flocked. I wanted a picture with a reindeer or a squirrel also but that didn't work out. Everyone told me not to pick up the dying moth, but I'm glad that I did. It died shortly after our brief encounter, but that little moth ended it's life on a high note. And now it can be appreciated by everyone that reads this blog or looks at my wedding pictures. It filled the measure of it's creation and made my secret wedding day nature goddess dreams come true!

The Horrifying Truth Inside the Pocket

Maybe it's a blog...what is a blog? If I had a blog maybe I'd keep it in my pocket. I actually hate keeping things in my pocket. I get nervous when I have anything in my pocket for too long. Once I had a little plastic baggy of Reese's Pieces in my pocket and I forgot about them. Later in the day I remembered they were there and they'd all melted together to make a warm and delicious Reese's Pieces gooey treat but surprisingly that hasn't made it any less nerve-racking for me to leave things in my pocket. I think this (probably) irrational fear of little pocket things comes from my days of baby sitting my cousins. I'd do their laundry sometimes and was always shocked and disgusted by the things I'd find in my 10 year old cousin's pockets. I had to stick my fingers in there before throwing his jeans in the wash and pull it all out...dirt, lint, rocks, chewed candy, little toys that should have been thrown away years ago...you name it, he kept it in his pocket. I refused to clean out those grubby bio-hazard little pockets one day and boy did I regret it! Everything that started the cycle in his pockets finished the cycle all over the washer, and all over the other children's laundry...I still shudder thinking about it. I equated disgusting pockets with ten year old children. I thought it was something that was grown out of, like old shoes, or favorite baby blankets, but I was wrong. Thoughts of little pocket things were far from my mind when I started washing my husband's laundry...and then I was reminded. So I've discovered that some people (male-people particularly) never grow out of leaving crap in their pockets. So if you're still trying to guess what's in my pocket, you can stop. I can almost 100% guarantee you that at any given point in the day I won't have anything in my pocket...nothing at all...