Udder Charades

I’m whining.

Just like a 4 year old.

It’s been a long week and I will blame it on the time change.

Or the fact that work has been crazy busy.

Or the fact that I am just in the mood to whine.

Feels kinda good.

No wonder little kids and teenagers do it all the time.

This HAS to be a clean-up weekend.

My house looks like a case study on “Hoarders.”

At least I haven’t resorted to doing my dishes in the bathtub and pooing in grocery bags yet.

But we are sliding towards that slippery slope.

For this reason I am not going to post any blog entries this weekend.

It’s hard for me though.

I love it.

Kind of like “Keyboard Crack.”

If I had my druthers I would sit here pounding out ponderings ‘til the cows come home.

Just for the record, I actually witnessed that phenomenon once.

I had traveled to Croatia with my soon to be husband in 1980 and witnessed a woman whose only job was to plod her cattle to a large rolling field, sit on a stool until nightfall, and then herd  them home when it was dark

Thus, you knew it was late when the “cows came home.”

Bet she wished there were IPads then.

And that she owned one.

At least she could play “Scrabble” or “Draw Something” with her homies to pass the time.

Bet she got bored.

Cuz cattle are not great conversationalists.

And they stink at charades.

Their udders make it awkward.

But I digress.

So I am forcing myself to clean the house and the yard and do laundry and not pass near my computer this weekend.

Or even peek at its “Siren Screen.”

It will be hard.

But essential.

Cuz I haven’t seen my dog in days.

I know she’s in here somewhere.

Maybe I will find a stool and sit in my living room until dark and see if she “comes home.”

Hey, you never know!

 Maybe dogs are hip to that expression too.

……..I’m just sayin’