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    This stressed out mom and my crew of insane monkey-like creatures: Queenie, Boy-o, and Bon Bon. Oh, and sometimes their dad, The Producer.

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Mr. Fancy Pants

Where to start?  It’s amazing how you can be so busy and still get so little done.  I’ve managed to do nothing of note other than become completely and irretrievably addicted to Ravelry, much to the detriment of the housework and probably those two kids.  Wait, two? That doesn’t sound right… let me move this yarn…

Somehow I have also managed to catch every available virus this winter.  It’s probably licking all those library books and sitting directly on the toilet seat at Walmart, but who knows, really?  Right now I’ve got a new one brewing, right in the lungs and throat.  Poor Queenie shares my pain, and at the tender age of 6 got her very first taste of puking at school.  Luckily she missed the lunch lady and just gave the office floor a good coating.  Who serves mozzarella sticks for lunch anyway?

So in the meantime, when I’m not hooking , I’m thinking about hooking.  Also, Jonathan Coulton’s Brains.

FREEBIE OF THE DAY:  The medulla oblongata is just so darn sticky.

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