So, I’m sitting at home with a Rhiannon, right now–the poor girl is sick; she’s in good spirits, though. We had loaded up in the car and were on the way to work, but Ashlee managed to get out early enough that I didn’t have to leave the house, so we turned back around, and here I sit. Definitely not a complaint of any kind–I’m just like, “hmm, now what do I do?” I didn’t foresee being able to sit and have a cup of coffee at a keyboard this morning.

Yeah, once again I’m at a total loss of words.

Maybe that’s a larger portion of why I take such large breaks in my journaling–at least a larger portion than I realized. Maybe I just don’t have anything to say. I know that half the time I don’t feel like I have anything worth saying. Heck, even way back when, did I really have anything worth saying?

The yard is looking scraggly, but it’s not too embarrassing, yet. And I think I know what to do about the fence once I finish the construction part. I think I’m going to see about maybe transplanting clippings from the one rose bush along the section behind the house, or maybe choose some morning glory or other pretty viney thing to take it over. The only issue will be it’ll become hideous again in the winter. I don’t know. I need to figure out something to make that view from my kitchen window beautiful again.

Hell, maybe I’ll even try to see if I can do something with that vine thing that the former owners used as shrubbery. That thing still looks somewhat healthy when it goes dormant. I just wonder how long it takes to grow, and how hard it would be to train it.

Ashlee should be home any minute.