I like using Goodreads to track the progress of my book-reading goals, but it really bugs me that I can’t choose how many pages are in the book to update my progress in a certain book. For example, I’m reading The Complete Sherlock Holmes as an e-book. In iBooks, it has 5698 pages, but in Goodreads, it gives me the option to be on page ___ of 1796. Another book I’m reading, I’m on page 130-something of 170… but Goodreads says it has 104. I think that since there are so many different copies of books that we should be able to list the number of pages in the version we are reading.
I cannot STAND the feel of popsicle sticks. If I happen to eat a popsicle or a corn dog or anything like that on a stick, I have to use a napkin or the packaging to hold the stick or else I get the heebie-jeebies.
I love harassing Mama Train about her love for tuna, which I certainly do NOT share.
What is it with kids and bandaids? I mean, I feel like I’m raising pretty intelligent children, but still at 7, 8 and 12 I am having to tell them that a band aid will not stop something from being SORE and that they don’t NEED one unless they’re bleeding! *sigh*
Speaking of bleeding… I got my cattle panel trellis up with only one minor injury. I probably shouldn’t have been wearing flip-flops to work in. Did you know that metal can give you a pretty good scrape? Ouch! Other than my bleeding foot, my trellis is coming right along. It’s a little lopsided, yet, but it’s a work in progress.
You should have seen me walking into McCoy’s sounding like I knew what I was talking about… you know, cattle panel and such… After all, my Grandaddy was an Ag teacher… he would have felt right at home in there. It made me feel so very Texan.
So, we are sitting down to a nice Sunday lunch with my parents and grandmother yesterday, and my 7 year old belts out with “Mama, I’m really upset because you drank WINE and I was so disappointed in you!” I was mor.ti.fied. The little stinker. So, yes, I occasionally have a glass of wine… usually after they are in bed, but sometimes my youngest will see evidence of it and get upset. It’s not something I am ashamed of… but it’s not something I’d love to discuss at my Mom’s dinner table either! Totally. Busted.
I went on a date with my hubby the other night, thanks to some great friends who watched the kids, and I fixed my hair all purdy…
I love how it still looks red in the sun. I miss my red hair. It’s actually growing in so dark on the top, that only the ends really look red anymore. I’m still a redhead at heart, though. I am so glad that I passed that gene on to at least one of my daughters.
My girls have all figured out how to comment on Trains and Tutus posts… I’m not sure that this is a good thing. I think they’ve already posted quite a few comments on their “Reading Rap” post. They still go around the house reciting it. It’s pretty funny.
I need to wrap this up and go work on laundry. Story of my life. Have I mentioned how much I can’t stand doing laundry?
Have a great week, friends! ~Mama Tutu