Time and Complaints
So, I hear ya! Some of you (that's all two of you read this drivel and fluff) have complained that I haven't written on a frequent enough basis and that my last post was a little down-in-the-dumps. I would try to argue the well-meaning points but I don't want to. In part, I don't want to because it is completely and totally true. I also don't want to because I am so flippin' tired of arguing and fighting and striving and scratching and clawing in an attempt to get a very important point across to a group of people who have absolutely nothing to do with this blog, with my lack of writing or with the depressing subject of the previous note.Instead of

Fair is Fair
Each year, my daughter and I make the pilgrimage to the fair. In Washington, we attended the Puyallup Fair. It was great. She was quite younger back then, so we would focus on her stuff early and then I would put her in her stroller, she would pass out and I would get to check out all of the vendors. The crowds could be a bit much, but it was the fair. Everybody wants to go to the fair.Fast forward a few years, and the fair tradition is alive and well. But this was the first year I didn’t think I would make it. I was sad. I was depressed. I was down in the dumps. But suddenly things turned around. Plans changed and I was, once again, able to attend the fair with my