30: The number of minutes I walked at a brisk pace around my neighborhood yesterday.
Disclosure: 5, 697: The number of minutes I should have walked, considering that, the day before, I ate a Royal Red Robin burger. It was gooooood, though.
Full disclosure: 798: The number of additional minutes I should have walked to cover the steak fries.
Please focus on the success of the walk, rather than the Royal Red Failure. I know I am.
12: The number of 12oz. jars of strawberry jam I canned on Monday. So good, it’ll make you wanna slap yo’ mama. Not me. I’m a little scared of my mama, but you go ahead and slap away.
3: The number of piles I have left in my house from our recent move. A pile = a group of as-yet unsituated stuff. Pile 1: stuff to file in a filing cabinet when I get one. Pile 2: stuff to put in/on a writing desk when I get one. Pile 3: stuff to go on a bookshelf in the Diva’s room when we get one. A bookshelf, not a room. She has a room.
2: The number of weeks the Diva has to wear a boot on her broken foot.
~3: The number of weeks until the leaves put on a full show here. I’m so excited I’m about to pee my pants!
2: The number of houseguests we had this weekend (one adult, one friend of the Diva).
1: The number of trips to the nail shop I made this weekend.
0: The number of Krystal’s Sweet Bites (balls of happiness) I have eaten lately.
at least 5: The number of times I’ve tried to call my Mammaw back. Each time her number’s busy. She’s burning up her phone line, talking about what? What’s more important than sitting around, waiting for my call, I ask you?
2: The number, out of 2, of recent nights I’ve slept on the couch because Big Daddy has a cold. See, he snores (loudly) normally. When a cold gets involved, well, let’s just say the earth moves in our bedroom and not in the Biblical way.
Off to rest up for another night of moving earth,