I have blogger block. What is it? It's this large blockage in your imagination that makes it impossible for you to be witty and entertaining, like your fellow bloggers (see the long list of blogs in my links area for proof of extreme hilarity beyond Random Beans). I don't know if I have taken a "serious" pill or what, but I am just not able to think of anything that all of you would even take a glance at. So, I get to write about not being able to write. It's such a cop-out...
I think it's just because I have had such a heart of prayer for
Rebekah that I can think of little else. I read the updates several times a day and my heart hurts for them. Please keep the prayers going!
This past weekend was spent in Gardnerville, Nevada. It was my father-in-law's birthday yesterday, so we drove-up to their lovely home and went to his birthday BBQ. Truth be told, I am super tired from the trip. I couldn't sleep on Saturday night, because their guest room is a little warm, but you cannot open the window, because of the highway noise. So I tossed and turned. In my half-sleep daze I thought about writing a blog about salad, because I was thinking about "tossing" so much that salad came to mind. How dumb is that? Obviously, I even have blogger block in my sleep. I spent most of yesterday on my feet, chopping onions. So, not only was I a tired wreck, I was a balling, tired wreck. I was able to caffinate myself to be conversational by the time the guests started arriving, but I was feeling pretty grouchy on the inside.
Justin and I decided to lay down for a bit, after everyone had eaten. One lady came in to get her handbag and seemed embarrassed to interrupt us. We couldn't figure it out, because we were just laying there, fully clothed and not even cuddling - it's not like we were getting it on or anything. Just when we decided to go back to the party we heard "Happy Birthday to you.." from the dining room. So, we got up and rushed out of the room - drawing a fair amount of raised eyebrows at our disheveled clothing and my bedhead. It looked bad. Oh well. We're married! I was hoping they would chalk it up to being newlyweds. You know, my father-in-law did not let us escape before he mentioned (this is twice) a desire for us to give him a granddaughter. Maybe that's what they thought we were doing.
Anyway, so I was looking forward to getting home to our bed - to get some sleep. Our cat made that impossible. She decided that since we left her alone, she was not going to let us sleep. We took off her collar, so the bell didn't drive us nuts, but that didn't stop her from running from one end of the house to our bedroom to attack my feet then run away. I finally gave-up and tried to sleep in the guest room, but she didn't like that either. "Meow. Meow. Meow." So, Justin managed to kick her out of our bedroom and I returned to bed, but soon after that, she stuck her little paw under the door and grabbed the door-stop-spring-thingy. BOING! BOING! I was so frustrated that I screamed and Justin decided to give-up on sleep and catch-up on TIVO at 4:00 AM. Needless to say, I am still frustrated and tired and rambling.
However, I do have one more very important thing to say/sing: Happy birthday, to you. Happy birthday, to you. Happy birthday, dear LUUUUUUUKE. Happy birthday, to you.
Luke is 5 today.