So, what does a reasonable person do when they have ten thousand things to do before leaving town for eleven days? Pay bills? Make notes for the house sitter, the gardener, the painter, the handy man? Finish packing? Do the laundry? Stop the daily newspaper? Pick up the "Advanced Placement" summer reading books from the local bookestore for The Guitar God? Call the art teacher and cancel lessons for the next few weeks?
HELL NO!!!!
Bluebelly is busy meeting Q on a random soft shoulder off of the PCH to transfer the laptop belonging to Mr. B (let's hope it doesn't crash and freeze again).
Bluebelly is busy eating dinner: Carr's water crackers, brie cheese and a crisp glass of Chardonnay (the Atkins dieter's nightmare)
Bluebelly is printing out select photos from her iphoto album to take with her to the Blue Ridge Mountains in N. Carolina.
Bluebelly is talking on the phone to J-Bird, who is currently driving through Little Rock, Arkansas in a big moving truck on his way to Asheville, N. Carolina and has just now decided to take the apartment, rather than the shack, at Bluebelly's insistent advice.
Bluebelly is trying out her brand new paper cutter from Staples while listening to Timmy snore very loudly.
In the meantime, Mr. B has created another masterpiece on his left foot. Completely purple, yet smelling very lovely thanks to the fruit-scented washable markers that we bought at Target. Wth elegant additions of orange, mellow yellow and blue. Once again. the pristine white sheets that BLUEBELLY loves so much are looking like a picnic at a Grateful Dead concert, and we all know that Bluebelly has a strong distaste for hippies. UGH . . . . . . . . .blah.
Well then, all is well at BLUEBELLY'S NEST. Do you know where your *imagination* is tonight?
