I'm so scatterbrained lately, it's not funny. I can't seem to piece together enough coherent thoughts to make one whole entry, and the last thing I want to do is bore you with my ramblings.

So bear with me, I'm going to purge all the Old Business to make room in my melon for newer, innovative, thought-provoking stuff. Buckle up!

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I like to think no one out there (other than me) allows their life to be ruled by their horoscopes. Mainly, this revolves around the hope there is no one else out there with the particular form of mental quirk that I enjoy. It's entertainment, it's folly, I realize that. It's just that damn voice in the back of my head reminding me not to make a decision that would go directly against the 'suggestions' under the two fishies this morning as I diddled around with the crossword that's making me question the soundness of my sanity. Have you ever had a prediction be scarily close to something that was happening in your life that very moment? Was there a catch in your throat as you wondered how in the hell anyone could chose to print that specific item in a national newspaper and have it hit home so damn hard? I've had episodes like that at least once a month since Christmas. And, thank God, it's had to do with my career situation and it's been positive. So, I wait. And pray. And continue to take peeks as I ponder 42 Across.

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Not to sound like I'm tooting my own horn, but I've always had a knack for cooking. Baking has been a learning experience, and I've come along nicely, but free-form cooking has always come easily to me. That's why it really pissed me off last week when I failed miserably at something so easy it only had seven ingredients. My sainted Mother agreed to come over last Saturday and help me tame my overgrown front garden. I mean, I love low-maintenance ground cover, but when it begins to get a finger-hold on the street, you know it's time to cut it back a tad. So in we dug, sacrificing great clumps of sod to get better access to the complex root system the ground cover had woven below. Hours of work had resulted in very little, if you relied on the naked eye of The Boy, who drove in the laneway after a long day of overtime. He very kindly fetched the wheelbarrel and toted our mounds behind the garage to propogate further into the mini-weed field the neighbours hate. That's okay, since I'm not big on them, either...

So. I had gone to great lengths to clean the house before Saturday, as well as plan a lovely lunch. Broccoli/ham/swiss chowder, homemade tea biscuits and rice pudding with raisins for dessert. Easy-peasy, non? Non! The chowder and biscuits were a breeze, but it was my first time making this pudding from a 4x6 recipe card, compliments of my sister in law. It would seem this 40+ year old recipe has never failed, not even once. Well, I managed to achieve the impossible and ended up with raisin and rice soup. Mom, bless her, ladled herself up a bowl and dug in with great gusto. I only hope I'm that good a Mom when my time comes.

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Speaking of being a Mom, I was over on Amazon reading reviews of Odd Girl Out: The Hidden Culture of Aggression in Girls, and I can't believe how I was taken back to all the times I've been emotionally brutalized by a female 'friend'. I've been told I have a strong personality, but I will run a mile to avoid confrontation. There are women and incidents in my life that have scarred me deeply, causing emotional responses to otherwise innocuous sitations that are usually to my detriment. I think if I ran into a few of those women today, I could manage to confront them 'with the back of me 'and', if only to exorcise these bloody demons. Yeah, right. I'd probably just sink into the depths of the nearest alley or disappear into some landscaped arrangement of shrubbery to avoid them, as is my wont. I'm a pathetic weakling, and that's definitely what I hate most about myself.
Oh well, no school reunions for me!

I'm going to buy that book as a gift to my sister and her daughter. I only wish we would have had it when we were young.

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Okay, thus endeth the torment of me and my fragmented thinking.
As you were.

p.s. Pineapple made mention of me - yay! It's all good, baby.

Posted at 10:39 a.m.