This is but one example of the many faces of a lady known as Mrs. Sunrise, whose beautiful and varied light greets me each morning. Except when it's raining. Or cloudy. Or if I get up too late.
Lady and Gentleman! Step right up!
Welcome to another edition of
And here we go...
1. Although normally I type about 100 words per minute, tonight my fingers are so numb from the cold I can barely depress the keys; it's as if they've been injected with Novocaine that is only just starting to wearing off.
Because after waking up at 5:30, fixing breakfast for two children, calling mother to finish the morning bus routine/send off, yea though I drove 50 miles through the valley of the shadow of death to be at my paying job by 7:30, working 8.5 hours, then driving another 50 miles home--after all this, Chesapeake Bay Daughter wanted to go to the Little League field to watch her friend play softball. All I wanted to do was
2. This one's a confession: Not having to write anything for the past three nights has been wonderful. Although the intention was to use my newly found spare time to stockpile a few posts so each night wouldn't be spent scrambling at the last minute to create something, I crawled into bed with the clicker instead.
Quickly overcoming any feelings of guilt, I discovered that I owned a television, which lured me to a new addiction: House Hunters International.
Did you know there are people rich enough to have not just one house, but a second vacation home in places like Costa Rica? Who knew? Chesapeake Bay Woman surely didn't.
Then, realizing that she can not even afford a vacation, much less a vacation home abroad, Chesapeake Bay Woman jumped off the Gwynn's Island bridge. But because the bridge is about two inches above the water, the worst that happened was a nostril full of salt water before she swam to shore, where she cut her feet on oyster shells, sank knee-deep in black mud and was assaulted by fiddler crabs. The End.
3. Although having the next five days off sounds
Kaboom! That's the sound of Chesapeake Bay Woman's brain exploding due to the unnecessary and excessive use of numbers, which are better left to analytical types who understand that Three Thing Thursday does not mean Take Three Days to Tell Three Days' Worth of Wandering Thoughts Thursday and who can succinctly, concisely say three things. Things. Three. Two. Four. Five.
Anyway, one unsavory event involves a dentist. Another involves a bank. The other two belong in a separate blog entirely called, "Are You Kidding Me, Is This Really Happening?"
Reality TV show producers could not possibly have fodder this ripe for the picking.
Now, please tell me three things to take my mind off
Thank you in advance.