Sleeping Dragons, Tired Moms.

First of all, thank you. You guys are so encouraging--and so forgiving of my major personality flaws. I really am grateful for all of your words--especially since you watch me spaz out here at least four times a year.

My grandmother (who is apparently damned tough) is going to be fine. I still have time to visit--and when thinking of that, I had a thought.

It was more like an epiphany, and I had it as I wrote a couple of leisurely pages on Jack & Teague. The thing is, I'm still in recovery from Keeping Promise Rock. I wrote 119,000 words in six weeks, during soccer season. This means that not only am I insane, for six weeks, I REALLY WAS IN THE DRAGON'S BELLY. I haven't been for the last two weeks, and I've been gradually finding my way back to the land of the living. I do laundry. (But don't fold it.) I wash dishes. (Once or twice a week.) And the house has been clean at least twice in the last two weeks. Not really clean, but, well, you know. Walkable. Now that I'm out of the dragon's cave for a little, I can still write--and not be obsessed with it. I know how to do that. I've just been remembering, that's all.

Second of all--Dec Raink-- I'VE LOST YOUR E-MAIL ADDRESS. E-mail me again and I'll send you your chapters!

Third of all--Geneve (whom I lurve) has sent me some fan-art. It's up at www.greenshill.com and it makes me cry, it's so beautiful. Be sure, if you think it's beautiful--(and you will!)--that you say something on the blog. Geneve lurks, and I want her to know her work is appreciated--she really rocked the house with this!

Fourth of all--My horoscope said something really encouraging today. It said that someone would take care of me the way that I take care of other people. I was excited. I spent all day wondering what might happen. Might someone make dinner? Do the dishes without asking? Clean the living room? Do the shopping?

I got home from taking Ladybug to dance, and Mate had gotten cereal from the store. I didn't even know we were out. Well. That was sort of anti-climactic.

"No cookies?" I said wistfully.

"What kind of cookies?"

"You know--the shortbread ones, with the fudge in the middle."

"No--I didn't get any."

"Well, okay. How about you give the kids their shower and I'll go get cookies."

*sigh* "No, no. I'll get cookies."

*eeeeeee* "Thank you!" See--I knew my horoscope was on to something.

Fifth of all--One of the things you forget about having five-through-ten-year-old boys, is that their favorite subject is poop.

"I'm having a poop, mom!"

"Excellent!"

"It's mooovvving!"

"Isn't that exciting!"

"It's big. And it's round. And it's bumpy. And it has a pointy end."

"Okay, big guy, I'm just here to give you toilet paper. I'm getting the hell out of the bathroom now."

Sixth of all--I've ruined Chicken for watching Kung Fu Panda.

She's there, watching Master Uguay, thinking he's the best character ever, and I keep doing an impression of this. It's really the saddest thing I've ever seen. It makes a frat kid with a blow-up doll look cool.

Seventh of all--Big T lost his hat. The one with the stripes I made him--the one that shows up in the San Francisco picture. I told him I'd make another one, and he got really excited--he's been mourning it for weeks.

And for those of you who wondered what song Cory listened to when she was going to kick ass...