Just look at the face: it's vacant, with a hint of sadness. Like a drunk who's lost a bet.

First off, can we discuss this latest Facebook recommendation for a second? I’ve written in the past about sidebar ads (did you know that wrestling a piglet into Wellies is one of the 365 things you must do before you die?), but the juxtaposition of zombies and Dumbo just opens up a whole new, disturbing train of thought. I found myself rewriting Dumbo wherein, instead of the “magic” feather to help him fly, Dumbo furiously clings to the brains of his enemies before jumping off the platform at the circus.

And speaking of creepy things, we have had two (2!) snake sightings in our driveway in the last couple of weeks. And while I keep flashing back to watching my Pappaw take an axe to a snake when I was a kid, the closest I’ve come to “decisive” action is squealing and hurriedly closing the garage door.  I’ve dubbed this plan of attack the “Fright and Flight” reflex. I’ll let you know how that works out for me.

And finally, there are the stinkbugs. So many that I told Jeremy if I saw one more, we were moving. They’re in the windows, in the fireplace, somehow in the upstairs bathroom, on fruit we bring home…I’ve had it. Last night one was flying and bumping into the ceiling above my head. I cowered under the afghan (see above re: “Fright and Flight”) while Jeremy disposed of it (my hero). Although after the stinkbug met its demise, Jeremy looked at me and—out of nowhere—said, “No, we’re not moving.” 


He’s just not being reasonable.