Tucker and his skunky playmate

WELL.

There was a time when the little trouble maker got sprayed by a skunk which caused a great smell to perfume the house for days after.

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Writing to turn the negative pull into uplifting cheer

I woke up an hour later than usual this morning and I felt it simmering deep in my core.

*It* being an unidentifiable something. The onset of depression? Some other emotional upheaval?

Hormone fluctuations?

Maybe it’s the change in weather. Or the doom and gloom on the news I sometimes watch when I join my mom in the tv room.

(Note to self: stay out of the tv room.)

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How life has changed and a few other updates

I’ve been co-parenting my teens while not living at home. It’s been… interesting.

Did you know teens are not chatty? I mean, all this time when I was home with them they stared at their phones, chatted with friends, yada yada… they knew I was there, in the background, ready to pour food into their little gullets, but they didn’t really interact with me too much. Which is completely normal teenage behaviour, I’m not complaining here. They have their lives back now that lockdowns have been eliminated (for how long though? ugh…) Chatting with mom was just not… done. Or something.

Unless they were hungry. ๐Ÿ˜›

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Chit chat over morning coffee

I have a bandaid on my right index finger, right at the tip,  which prevents me from using the biometric fingerprint thingy on the back of my phone. I use biometrics to access my locked accounts on my phone.

So this is fun. ๐Ÿ™„

I guess I could take the bandaid off and suffer… ๐Ÿ˜‚

Speaking of suffering, I’ve had trouble with the post office lately. ๐Ÿคจ

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More pandemic reflections while out on a stroll

The other day I was taking a break from the daily routine and took a walk around a park near a marina. The area is peppered with a few small, non-chain restaurants and bars, but they were relatively quiet since it was a weekday in the middle of the afternoon; happy hour wouldn’t begin for a while.

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