If you wrote to me when you asked for the ol' e-mail address, I have yet to receive it. If you never did, fine; if you did send something, forgive me! I have been waiting with baited breath, but I don't have it.
Hugs to you and you and the little one, too.
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We are here and have planned on writing and do plan! (Shouldn't I be doing at This Moment? Argh!) Just fussing and running and tidying and chasing about as our list of things needing done pesters and our list of pleasures (upon which you two fall) waits with tilted head.
Writing!
Hooray!
Good. I always wonder if it's on my end.
Everyone who's ever written to me wonders what happened on my end (because it usually IS). I'm an absolutely rotten correspondent.
That's why I love the blog format. I can just yammer away and let people come get what they want and blow off what bores them. What's not to love?
"I have a way with the insane..." (Pulling from another blog, I know... but it makes me happy.)
Note to you: Go get Chris Moore's Dirty Job. Don't let P. read it yet, but later perhaps. Double note: If you haven't read Lamb by Mr. Moore yet... well, tis the season. I'm getting it tomorrow for our Christmas bathtub read.
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