So The Man checked the basement for a skunk. His preparation was a bit like Tallahassee when he went looking for the last box of Twinkies left on the planet.
He grabbed an implement of destruction that resembled a Garden Weasel, and descended into the deep dark cellar. He came back a few minutes later with the "all-clear", but it's an old dirt floor basement with lots of places to hide. I'm not truly convinced that there isn't a skunk still skulking around down there. Which will make going down there in the future oh so much fun.
So in true Oldest Urchin birthday party fashion, something to thwart me occurred. Namely Hurricane Irene. Our house is not a good place to have ten 2 to 7 year olds confined, playing carnival games, but alas the weather was too bad to have it outside like I'd planned.
But I survived it. Along with her first week of first grade. So with those hurdles leaped like a capital T in a single bound, I'm now on to working on my wip faster than a rolling O. (Anyone remember where those phrases came from? Bonus points to you if you can guess!)
T is for...
49 minutes ago