Two Sets of Best Friends.

Because you're young, children, you probably think of baking soda and vinegar as merely the ingredients in homemade volcanoes. But when you get to be older and more interested in eradicating soap scum from your life, you'll come to see these two powerhouses as best friends and warriors in the battle against household grime*.

I had a glorious few hours this weekend scrubbing the tub and chrome bathroom fixtures, and managed to restore them to something resembling cleanliness. As a bonus, these powerful cleansing ingredients are easy on the environment AND on the wallet. But they're not the only pair of best friends who experienced extreme cleaning this weekend.

Your dad was out of town, children, which meant I had an opportunity to put my childhood stuffed animal, Kringle, through the laundry without enduring endless mockery. So I did. And he came out so fluffy and bright that I couldn't resist letting him sleep on your father's side of the bed. Just until he gets back, you understand. 

Probably.

Before the bath. Note the dirty, mangy coat.

*Or, if you're not prone to personifying inanimate objects, you'll just see them as baking soda and vinegar.

A Chilling Return to Carbondale.

When I got back home from my trip to New York, your father was at class. But that doesn't mean there was nobody to welcome me when I walked in the door. I was greeted by a friend I have had since I was five years old.


Ta-da! Kringle Bear! And look, I said to myself upon my reentry, Kringle has a note for me!


How sweet, thought I: he's as happy to have me back as I am to be here.


But then I turned the note over.


(In case you cannot read Kringle's writing, the note says: "John touched me when you were away. Just thought you ought to know. Shaken, Kringle.")

Chilling.

Everyday Lifer in the Big City (Part 1).

Children, I missed a day of informing you about my life. But with good reason: I spent the last four days in New York City, which was known as "The Big Apple" to people who had never been there until it was washed into the sea by global warming.

The first stop on my grand visit was a day of work, because life is not all fun and games, children. Here I am doing my freelance writing while a cat befriends me despite my clear dislike for her. (Her name is Mister Schweems, which caused me a great deal of confusion, but she is, in fact, female.)

This is your Auntie Lucia, grading her students' papers. How studious are we!


But once the work had been dispensed with, the (real) fun began.


My friends and I visited a rooftop beer garden so fancy I had no choice but to wear a feathered fascinator to fit in!


And of course, fit in I did. For this was no ordinary beer garden. It was an intellectual beer garden. As you can see.

Your Father Is Home!

After his trip to Tulsa, your father returned safely and soundly to our abode on Saturday night. And naturally, there was nothing he wanted to do more than unwind with... a beer and a bourbon? Really? At the same time, John?


Okay, sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.


(Sheesh.)