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Not to Belabor the Topic of " Doo doo on my Balcony"

Monday, June 30, 2008

I finally heard back from my other neighbor. She, too, has found inexplicable piles of dog poo in her back yard and on the driveway. Neither of us own a dog or can explain why the poo appears to have been dropped on the driveway or in my case thrown onto the balcony. She does not have a balcony which probably saved her from the irritation. The mystery continues.

Kharma Let Me Be

Friday, June 27, 2008


I can't explain it. Tuesday, I found dried animal poo on my driveway as I headed toward the garage. I was angry but I ignored it. I could not imagine how it got there. Even if a dog had pooed in my driveway it would not have walked a few yards and pooed a second time. And the poo would not have dried out overnight. It was not that hot.
Wednesday it rained and the dried animal poo was not. It had flies buzzing around it and I shouted "Who is throwing poop in my driveway?" No one answered.
Thursday I went to check my balcony for the source of the leak and found a mound of poo that looked as if it had been shaped into a ball. It was on the edge of the balcony as if it had been thrown there. I asked the neighbor kids if they were throwing poo at my balcony.

They suggested that it was squirrel poo. Considering the size of the average squirrel, if it had been squirrel poo that would mean it extruded about 1/3 its body mass.
They suggested rabbit poo. It was 500% the size of on rabbit turd. Finally Junior says that his sister is really a monkey and she is always throwing her poo around. He apologized for her.
So much for asking the children.
I called my neighbor and sent an email to the other one to ask if they had noticed anything odd.
Apparently the scenario has entertained my neighbor's friends so much she posted the audio of my voicemail onto Youtube

The going theory is that I have bad karma

What Time Is It

Thursday, June 26, 2008


Okay the last few days I have been awaking with frozen limbs. Sometimes it is my right arm sometimes it is the left. I have no idea what I am doing in my sleep but I am definitely not lying in the same position or even on the same diagonal on the bed. My cat does not sleep with me anymore. When I wake she is no where to be found. I am kicking her out. I guess it does not help that my alarm clock hates me. I probably should not crochet an hour before going to bed. I am sure it is somehow the reason for my zombie limbs. I have been trying to complete my altered Geisha Wrap.

This morning it read 7:50 am. I turned on the TV, because by now I suspected that the clock had lost its objectivity. It was 5:17 am. Sugarbear!!!!

The alarm had been running for about 20 minutes before I awoke to cancel it. It all made sense to me. I never look at that clock during the day. I keep it on a side of the bed that requires me to reach for it. I use the TV to for time. There had been some days when I could not recall the alarm at all. I had set up a second alarm – as a late alarm. Thank goodness that I did. I do not think that there is any clock in my house that is correct except the Oven’s clock. Due to daylight savings time, for some clocks I just do not bother.

Even so, it is time for a new clock.

I do wish that other upcoming deadlines would push back. Due to an oversight, I will not be paid for 24 hours next paycheck. So much for more yarn. Fortunately, I will get the lost hours later in July around my birthday with the new raise included. Yeah!



The Adventures of Lil'T and Trey

Sunday, June 22, 2008

You would think after years of watching minors that I would know all of their tricks. The popular mantra, “you can’t out trick the trickster” has only applied to me under very limited circumstances.  Certainly, not during my adventures in watching minors. 

Lil’T passed kindergarten with flying colors. She knew how to tie her shoes and could write her own name.  I missed the graduation ceremony but I wanted to spend some time with Lil’T and her brother.  I needed some entertainment.    I had the pleasure of baby-sitting her while her parents celebrated Father’s Day.  It seemed odd to me that they would select Fathers’ Day as an excuse to visit a four star hotel and not their anniversary.  That is, until I realized that their anniversary fell on my birthday and I am generally unavailable to baby-sit on that day.  I have learned that not too many of their friends and relatives agree to baby-sit for both children at the same time.  I was happy to oblige. Due to the heat, I demanded that the event take place in their air conditioned home.  My instructions were to pick them up from their grandmothers and take them to the house.  My cousin arranges this hand-off scenario all of the time.  By taking shifts they can maximize the amount of time of their vacations or trips without overburdening any one relative. 

As a single woman with no children, I am always amazed at that state of their house.  Each time I visit, I check the white furniture in the living room. I still cannot believe that the set has not be replaced by something darker.  The kitchen never looks the same twice.   It reminds me of a kitchen in a group home.  Everything cabinet and cupboard had a lock including those above the counter.  I stared at the lock on the refrigerator for a few minutes.  There are, of course, the tell-tale signs of a family with children which consist of school lunch menus and pictures held by color magnets on the fridge.  I pull the door handle and find it tethered by some kind of lock.  It resembled one of those locking ties that SWAT teams use to subdue  prisoners.  Seeing it on the door handles of the refrigerator prompted me to call my cousins during their romantic getaway.  He explained to me that Trey did not permit himself to be hungry for long. It was his habit shout, “I am hungry” just once.  If there was not response to his within the next few moments he would take matters into his own little hands.  I was warned to leave any food sitting on the counters, to confirm that the pantry was closed and to reattach the tie on the fridge.  I thought that the arrangements seemed extreme for a 3 year old. 

I learned a very important lesson that babysitting adventure. I should not attempt to watch minors when I am learning  a new knitting or crochet technique. I often take my needlework with me when I sit for my cousin.  Usually, I am working on something simple and mindless. Something that I do not have to mind every few stitches.  On this occasion, I brought an intricate pattern to the house to practice.  I regret to admit that I watched the project develop more than I watched the children.  Instead of cooking dinner, I bought a pizza and set the table. I instructed the Kindergartner graduate and the preschooler to eat the pizza while I continued to knit in the adjoining room. After about five rows, I checked on the children.

The pizza box had one slice remaining.  I looked at the children and their little stomachs, briefly wondering – just for a moment – if they really ate 9 slices of cheese pizza.  The trash can had at least three half eaten slices in it. I should off my confusion and cleaned the food mess that they made for me.  All night long Lil’T kept asking me about my knitting project.  But not in the manner in which one would expect.  She would simultaneously ask me what I was making and guess at the same time.

“Are you making a blanket.“

“No,” I would respond without looking at her. 

“Are you making a hat?”

“No,” I would answer.

Finally she asked, “What are you making?”

“I am making a sweater,” I looked at her and waited for a response.  This seemed to satisfy her curiosity until the next time she asked.  It took me a few times but I soon learned that it was a game.  The series of three questions and two random garment guesses went on all night long until she complained of a stomach to avoid going to bed.  I had not noticed her pattern of questions while I studied the instructions for the sweater pattern.  Despite this, I would not be tricked into delaying her bedtime.  I have her a glass of warm milk and sent her to her room. 

The next morning,  I laid in bed waiting for the children to collect me to make their breakfast.  I know that this is an unconventional practice. Most parents make breakfast for the children before they awaken.  Being a baby-sitter, I waited for the children to rise before I would.  When I opened my eyes and checked the clock on my cell phone, I read 10:30 am.  I was shocked that the children had not wanted breakfast. Then I remember my cousin’s warning. 

I leapt up the stairs and headed for the kitchen.  Nothing was out of place. The refrigerator had not been toppled over.  The trash though it needed to be emptied looked the same as it had the night before.  I imagined that the children were starving.  I asked Lil’T, “are you hungry?” She answered in the negative.  I searched for her brother.  I found Trey chewing on something in his mouth.  I asked him about the contents of his mouth and he laughed at me.  The mischievous Lil’T matter of fact informed me that they had eaten pizza.  Since I had not put away any leftover pizza, I asked her to explain.  She shared with me that they had saved several pieces of pizza for their parents.  When I pressed to know where the pizza had been saved both children smiled at me silently.  Apparently the resourceful children has chosen to eat their stashed pizza rather than wake me to make breakfast.  I really did not want to know where the hiding place had been. 

Had I not been so preoccupied by my own kitting affairs, I would have accounted for the horded sliced.  I vowed never to baby-sit while tackling a new needlework project again. When my cousin arrived home and I explained to him the shenanigans that had occurred in this absence, I referred to me as the “Substitute” while he checked his home for damages.  He felt that we should not have agreed to baby-sit at his home since the children were on familiar territory and would use their tricks to avoid their regular routine.  Instead of accusing me of not bathing the children properly, he smelled them and then checked the moisture level of their wash cloths.  Trey passed the inspection.  Lil’T on the other hand proved to be an adept trickster.  I had observed Trey bathing himself, his competency in handling the soap and wash cloth led me to believe that his older sister would be able to bath herself alone.  I was wrong.  We determined that she merely splashed water around for 20 minutes using neither a wash cloth nor soap. At the time of her bath, I had asked her about the dry washcloth.  For some reason, I accepted her explanation of  “I didn’t need a wash cloth, I used the soap.” I attribute my failure to recognize the antics of a trickster to my preoccupation with the sweater that I was knitting.  Once again, I had failed another of God’s lessons.  

I loved My Childhood

Remember these old songs? 
down down baby rocking by the rollercoaster
Sweet Sweet baby I'll never let you go
Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy swirl Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy swirl
I like coffee, I like tea, I like a boy and he likes me

Little boy, little boy, don't you cry
I've got another boy on my mind
Step back Jack your hands are too black
Looking like a monkey on a railroad track
To the front , to the back to the side, side, side
To the front, to the back to the side, side, side

Now those songs seem sexual and self-loathing......

The Adventures of Lil'T and Trey

You would think after years of watching minors that I would know all of their tricks. The popular mantra, “you can’t out trick the trickster” has only applied to me under very limited circumstances. Certainly, not during my adventures in watching minors.

Lil’T passed kindergarten with flying colors. She knew how to tie her shoes and could write her own name. I missed the graduation ceremony but I wanted to spend some time with Lil’T and her brother. I needed some entertainment. I had the pleasure of baby-sitting her while her parents celebrated Father’s Day. It seemed odd to me that they would select Fathers’ Day as an excuse to visit a four star hotel and not their anniversary. That is, until I realized that their anniversary fell on my birthday and I am generally unavailable to baby-sit on that day. I have learned that not too many of their friends and relatives agree to baby-sit for both children at the same time. Besides their wedding date is a popular time of year for showers, weddings, reunions, etc. I was happy to oblige. Due to the heat, I demanded that the event take place in their air conditioned home. My instructions were to pick them up from their grandmothers and take them to the house. My cousin arranges this hand-off scenario all of the time. By taking shifts they can maximize the amount of time of their vacations or trips without overburdening any one relative.

As a single woman with no children, I am always amazed at that state of their house. Each time I visit, I check the white furniture in the living room. I still cannot believe that the set has not be replaced by something darker. The kitchen never looks the same twice. It reminds me of a kitchen in a group home. Everything cabinet and cupboard had a lock including those above the counter. I stared at the lock on the refrigerator for a few minutes. There are, of course, the tell-tale signs of a family with children which consist of school lunch menus and pictures held by color magnets on the fridge. I pull the door handle and find it tethered by some kind of lock. It resembled one of those locking ties that SWAT teams use to subdue prisoners. Seeing it on the door handles of the refrigerator prompted me to call my cousins during their romantic getaway. He explained to me that Trey did not permit himself to be hungry for long. It was his habit shout, “I am hungry” just once. If there was not response to his within the next few moments he would take matters into his own little hands. I was warned not to leave any food sitting on the counters, to confirm that the pantry was closed and to reattach the tie on the fridge. I thought that the arrangements seemed extreme for a 3 year old.

I learned a very important lesson that babysitting adventure. I should not attempt to watch minors when I am learning a new knitting or crochet technique. I often take my needlework with me when I sit for my cousin. Usually, I am working on something simple and mindless. Something that I do not have to mind every few stitches. On this occasion, I brought an intricate pattern to the house to practice. I regret to admit that I watched the project develop more than I watched the children. Instead of cooking dinner, I bought a pizza and set the table. I instructed the Kindergartner graduate and the preschooler to eat the pizza while I continued to knit in the adjoining room. After about five rows, I checked on the children.

The pizza box had one slice remaining. I looked at the children and their little stomachs, briefly wondering – just for a moment – if they really ate 9 slices of cheese pizza. The trash can had at least three half eaten slices in it. I shook off my confusion and cleaned the food mess that they made for me. All night long Lil’T kept asking me about my knitting project. But not in the manner in which one would expect. She would simultaneously ask me what I was making and guess at the same time.

“Are you making a blanket.“

“No,” I would respond without looking at her.

“Are you making a hat?”

“No,” I would answer.

Finally she asked, “What are you making?”


“I am making a sweater,” I looked at her and waited for a response. This seemed to satisfy her curiosity until the next time she asked. It took me a few times but I soon learned that it was a game. The series of three questions and two random garment guesses went on all night long until she complained of a stomach to avoid going to bed. I had not noticed her pattern of questions while I studied the instructions for the sweater pattern. Despite this, I would not be tricked into delaying her bedtime. I have her a glass of warm milk and sent her to her room.

The next morning, I laid in bed waiting for the children to collect me to make their breakfast. I know that this is an unconventional practice. Most parents make breakfast for the children before they awaken. Being a baby-sitter, I waited for the children to rise before I would. When I opened my eyes and checked the clock on my cell phone, I read 10:30 am. I was shocked that the children had not wanted breakfast. Then I remember my cousin’s warning.

I leapt up the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Nothing was out of place. The refrigerator had not been toppled over. The trash though it needed to be emptied looked the same as it had the night before. I imagined that the children were starving. I asked Lil’T, “are you hungry?” She answered in the negative. I searched for her brother. I found Trey chewing on something in his mouth. I asked him about the contents of his mouth and he laughed at me. The mischievous Lil’T matter of fact informed me that they had eaten pizza. Since I had not put away any leftover pizza, I asked her to explain. She shared with me that they had saved several pieces of pizza for their parents. When I pressed to know where the pizza had been saved both children smiled at me silently. Apparently the resourceful children has chosen to eat their stashed pizza rather than wake me to make breakfast. I really did not want to know where the hiding place had been.

Had I not been so preoccupied by my own kitting affairs, I would have accounted for the horded sliced. I vowed never to baby-sit while tackling a new needlework project again. When my cousin arrived home and I explained to him the shenanigans that had occurred in this absence, I referred to me as the “Substitute” while he checked his home for damages. He felt that we should not have agreed to baby-sit at his home since the children were on familiar territory and would use their tricks to avoid their regular routine. Instead of accusing me of not bathing the children properly, he smelled them and then checked the moisture level of their wash cloths. Trey passed the inspection. Lil’T on the other hand proved to be an adept trickster. I had observed Trey bathing himself, his competency in handling the soap and wash cloth led me to believe that his older sister would be able to bath herself alone. I was wrong. We determined that she merely splashed water around for 20 minutes using neither a wash cloth nor soap. At the time of her bath, I had asked her about the dry washcloth. For some reason, I accepted her explanation of “I didn’t need a wash cloth, I used the soap.” I attribute my failure to recognize the antics of a trickster to my preoccupation with the sweater that I was knitting. Once again, I had failed another of God’s lessons.

I loved My Childhood

Remember these old songs?
down down baby rocking by the rollercoaster
Sweet Sweet baby I'll never let you go
Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy swirl Shimmy shimmy cocoa pop, shimmy shimmy swirl
I like coffee, I like tea, I like a boy and he likes me

Little boy, little boy, don't you cry
I've got another boy on my mind
Step back Jack your hands are too black
Looking like a monkey on a railroad track
To the front , to the back to the side, side, side
To the front, to the back to the side, side, side
I raise my skirt above my knees
I raise it little higher so the boys can see
To the front , to the back to the side, side, side
To the front, to the back to the side, side, side

Now those songs seem sexual and self-loathing......

Yet another day in my life

Thursday, June 19, 2008

This stuff only happens to me.  My doctor prescribed Metformin for me to combat my prediabetes condition.  The side effects have made me dizzy, nauseous and left me with feelings of butterflies in my tummy. 

I have endured it for the past three days at work. Think that I was experiencing anxiety from the diagnosis and my grandmother’s recent hospitalization.  I had no rum or vodka so I had used exercise to make the strange feeling go away.  Thursday I had had a pretty rough day.  I went to the gas station and to the library after work and I felt horrible.  When the alarm sounded this morning I felt that I needed to stay home while I adjusted to the medicine.  I glanced at the clock which read 8:49 am.  I panicked. Not only did I have a terrible sleep but I had overslept.  I called the office to notify them that I would not join them and that I would have called earlier but I overslept.  The workday begins at 8:15 am.  I felt terrible in having called in sick so late. I leapt out of bed to the kitchen for a glass of water.  The oven clock read 6:37 am.  I felt like a dork.  I have no explanation for my clock jovial nature.  I still went back to bed.

I have two books to review to learn how to manage my health without the assistance of diabetes medication. 

Wish me luck or give me some suggestions before I eat another delicious cookie.

Yet another day in my life

This stuff only happens to me. My doctor prescribed Metformin for me to combat my prediabetes condition. The side effects have made me dizzy, nauseous and left me with feelings of butterflies in my tummy.

I have endured it for the past three days at work. Think that I was experiencing anxiety from the diagnosis and my grandmother’s recent hospitalization. I had no rum or vodka so I had used exercise to make the strange feeling go away. Thursday I had had a pretty rough day. I went to the gas station and to the library after work and I felt horrible. When the alarm sounded this morning I felt that I needed to stay home while I adjusted to the medicine. I glanced at the clock which read 8:49 am. I panicked. Not only did I have a terrible sleep but I had overslept. I called the office to notify them that I would not join them and that I would have called earlier but I overslept. The workday begins at 8:15 am. I felt terrible in having called in sick so late. I leapt out of bed to the kitchen for a glass of water. The oven clock read 6:37 am. I felt like a dork. I have no explanation for my clock jovial nature. I still went back to bed.

I have two books to review to learn how to manage my health without the assistance of diabetes medication.

Wish me luck or give me some suggestions before I eat another delicious cookie.

I am not addicted at all

Monday, June 16, 2008

Me at the Toledo Mud Hens Stitch and Pitch night. 












This has been one difficult blog entry. That is me  in the back. To the right of the lady in blue and behind the lady in orange. yes, the brown face.

I was working on the Geisha Wrap pattern that I found lying on the table at Fiberworks. I didn't care for the Colinette yarn prices so I created my own assortment. I changed the pattern into tunisian crochet for my own sanity. it is quite nice. I switched seed stitch to moss stitch. I will post a picture.

I am participating in a magic ball yarn swap. It is so much fun. I have been gathering items from all over using the LYS, Ebay and Etsy to pull it together. I can not wait until the yarn ball is complete.
67%

I am not addicted at all

67%

I attended the Toledo Mud Hens Stitch and Pitch

This has been one difficult blog entry. That is mean in the back. To the right of the lady in blue and behind the lady in orange. yes, the brown face.

I was working on the Geisha Wrap pattern that I found lying on the table at Fiberworks. I didn't care for the Colinette yarn prices so I created my own assortment. I changed the pattern into tunisian crochet for my own sanity. it is quite nice. I switched seed stitch to moss stitch. I will post a picture.

I am participating in a magic ball yarn swap. It is so much fun. I have been gathering items from all over using the LYS, Ebay and Etsy to pull it together. I can not wait until the yarn ball is complete.

Indestructible

Friday, June 6, 2008

Stray Cats are Indestructible


My South neighbor (the one that feeds and houses stray cats in her garage) finally hired an exterminator to get rid of them

Entry for June 05, 2008 magnify

To recap, what began as a one cat found living in her tree with three tiny kittens has evolved into a stray cat nightmare.  She tried to catch them and take them to the animal shelter.  She would catch the nursing female but none of the kittens which were too small to trigger the trap.  She would let the female out in order to maintain the cat family unit. 

Of course, that female slut has had two more broods since first taking up house in that tree. Why should she or ANY of her kittens leave?  She had housing, fresh water and food.  I think there were at least 5 cats living in her garage and pooping in my yard.  They are very considerate not to poop in her yard but have no reservations regarding befouling my garden.   I was afraid to use my herbs last year.  I was afraid to dry them out.  I just let them die.

 
This year, I am terrified for my lettuce.  I had been stealing my roomies used coffee grounds for a week before I told them what I was doing.  I am creating a cat repellent.  I spread the grounds around the lettuce.

After months of dropping hints to my neighbor she is finally hiring a professional to catch the cats and remove them from her garage.

Wednesday the exterminator placed the critter trap near her garage.  Good idea.  That is where they live after all.  ‘Cept, all he caught was a possum.

The image “http://www.aaanimalcontrol.com/images/opossumcontrol.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.I saw it on my way to my garage and laughed my tail off.  No pun intended. 

One of the stray cats was lying in her bird bath (which is in stalking distance of my bird feeder) watching the possum struggle. 

 

Another neighbor on the North side of my house asked the exterminator about family cats that are permitted outside.  He informed her that all cats in Toledo require a collar and a license.   She, like me, hates the stray cats.  They are a huge nuisance to everyone. New neighbors always remark about the large number of strays in the neighborhood.  I should mention the stray cats did not begin with the Southside neighbor but a neighbor across the street.  The house had been empty for a month and the new owners unceremoniously removed three kittens from the garage.  One of those kittens found herself in my neighbor’s tree. 

She called four pet stores only to be laughed at four times. No one really sells cat collars and the region does not require a license. She did find a collar and her extremely well-fed cat wears it proudly.  I can not imagine how anyone could confuse a pampered stray and a pampered pet.  I would describe her cat as dwarf panther.    

If you are an animal lover and are finding yourself becoming very uncomfortable reading this blog visit this link and spay or neuter your own pets before they become someone else’s problem.

   

Thursday the exterminator had placed the trap under the garage door and used old closet doors to block off the space forcing the cats to enter the trap.  When I got home from work, I noticed the trap empty but the garage was missing a window.  The Northside neighbor and I laughed ourselves silly over a glass of rum and coke on her porch while her house cat lazily watched us. 

I would have taken a picture this morning but I think she decided to cut her losses.  Two animal traps looked as if they had been thrown into a corner where she keeps her cutting. 

I hope she gets is right before I do something drastic.

Indestructible

Stray Cats are Indestructible


My South neighbor (the one that feeds and houses stray cats in her garage) finally hired an exterminator to get rid of them

To recap, what began as a one cat found living in her tree with three tiny kittens has evolved into a stray cat nightmare. She tried to catch them and take them to the animal shelter. She would catch the nursing female but none of the kittens which were too small to trigger the trap. She would let the female out in order to maintain the cat family unit.

Of course, that female slut has had two more broods since first taking up house in that tree. Why should she or ANY of her kittens leave? She had housing, fresh water and food. I think there were at least 5 cats living in her garage and pooping in my yard. They are very considerate not to poop in her yard but have no reservations regarding befouling my garden. I was afraid to use my herbs last year. I was afraid to dry them out. I just let them die.


This year, I am terrified for my lettuce. I had been stealing my roomies used coffee grounds for a week before I told them what I was doing. I am creating a cat repellent. I spread the grounds around the lettuce.

After months of dropping hints to my neighbor she is finally hiring a professional to catch the cats and remove them from her garage.

Wednesday the exterminator placed the critter trap near her garage. Good idea. That is where they live after all. ‘Cept, all he caught was a possum.

The image “http://www.aaanimalcontrol.com/images/opossumcontrol.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.I saw it on my way to my garage and laughed my tail off. No pun intended.

One of the stray cats was lying in her bird bath (which is in stalking distance of my bird feeder) watching the possum struggle.

Another neighbor on the North side of my house asked the exterminator about family cats that are permitted outside. He informed her that all cats in Toledo require a collar and a license. She, like me, hates the stray cats. They are a huge nuisance to everyone. New neighbors always remark about the large number of strays in the neighborhood. I should mention the stray cats did not begin with the Southside neighbor but a neighbor across the street. The house had been empty for a month and the new owners unceremoniously removed three kittens from the garage. One of those kittens found herself in my neighbor’s tree.

She called four pet stores only to be laughed at four times. No one really sells cat collars and the region does not require a license. She did find a collar and her extremely well-fed cat wears it proudly. I can not imagine how anyone could confuse a pampered stray and a pampered pet. I would describe her cat as dwarf panther.

If you are an animal lover and are finding yourself becoming very uncomfortable reading this blog visit this link and spay or neuter your own pets before they become someone else’s problem.

Thursday the exterminator had placed the trap under the garage door and used old closet doors to block off the space forcing the cats to enter the trap. When I got home from work, I noticed the trap empty but the garage was missing a window. The Northside neighbor and I laughed ourselves silly over a glass of rum and coke on her porch while her house cat lazily watched us.

I would have taken a picture this morning but I think she decided to cut her losses. Two animal traps looked as if they had been thrown into a corner where she keeps her cutting.

I hope she gets is right before I do something drastic.

I also wanted to say "hi" to my Crabby Swap Partner

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