Talking Trash

The fingernails are gone, but the feeling that I'm camping still lingers.
It is the rainiest summer Houston has seen since the early 1900s. Which is basically the long way of saying that it rains EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
But I'm always one for counting their blessings, and so I shall.

Thank you God. Thank you for creating gymnastics camp. This provides me a brief respite from the continual squabbles and bickering that plague my everyday existence.

Thank you for Texas neighbors. In our short time here, someone has already baked us a cake. Our next door neighbors could not be friendlier. (almost too friendly, but that's a story for another time).

Thank you for Big Trash Day. Oh yes- I've missed this one. Once a month, you can put ANYTHING- really anything, out to the curb, and the trash folks take it away. (Unless people driving by don't scavenge it first). This Monday, my curb will look like Sarah Cynthia Syliva Stout finally did take her garbage out.

Thank you for Central Market. For those not in the know, Central Market is like a merging of Whole Foods, Trader Joes and Bristol Farms- but only better. It says something when the entire damn family wants to go grocery shopping. Yesterday, my kids sampled imported salami shaped like a flower, something called Cowboy Cookies and freshly squeezed orange juice. Walking into the doors of Central Market was like saying hello to an old friend- an old friend that likes to make me fat.

Amen.