Of A Rag Doll Dance

Three is a magic number. Yes, it is!

Happy New Year! And no one is happier than decorative cabbages, the ingenues of the winter landscape world. They’re full of natural beauty, even without mascara. Oh, to be 23 again!

Change is in the air! I’m bringing all my annual projects to their conclusions and sending out packages, so the blog’s annual report should come sooner than later. My studies will shift this year, as I’m planning to focus on core requirements for a degree, as opposed to studying anything I fucking wanted to, and there might be math. I am very bad at math and, when other people talk about numbers, I hear, “Meow meow meow – meow – meow!” That’s also why I’ve had an accountant do my taxes since the eighties and try to never talk to him. He is nice, though! Should I mail him tuna?

In other news, our living arrangements may change since my father-in-law is 90 and stubborn and his wife may be terrible. Plenty of people would say I am terrible, so your mileage may vary.

I might be terrible, we cannot be sure. That does not mean other people are not engaged in other kinds of terriblosity we cannot see from a distance; in this case, from two states away. Do I have reading glasses for that?

No, the other way!

This is perpendicular to my house. Also to my street. And several of my squirrels.

In my family, circumstances cannot continue as they have, so stuff is definitely going to change. For the better? For the worse? Nobody is that kind of genius. Suspense is killing you! Or me. It’s hard to tell us apart sometimes.

So Happy 2020! Are you sure you’re you?



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