Lina and Yosh, my two chicks, my progeny, dearest to my heart, are at the farm in Texas this weekend. ~sigh~ Sadly, I chose not to go, so I'm experiencing these weird here/there feelings about it all. I've called them, hmm, let's see ... uh, five times in the past 24 hours? Yeah, I'm sort of a combination stalker and wistful, empty-nest mother.
SO-o-ooo, what can I do? What's with this photo over here? This is the front door of the farmhouse. This is the door painted the color of some classy, sexy dame's LIPS. This is the door with a paint color selected by a MALE(!). This is the door that Paul and Aaron sanded, oh so lovingly, propped up against a tree trunk. This is the door I painted, oh so pleasurably, under a tree in the backyard. This is the door with the cool, soaring-swallows screen on it that Aunt Doris bought for her mama and daddy back in the day when money was tight, mama longed for nice things and daddy was too practical to spring for it. This is the door NEXT to the post that brought out the cursing, yelling part of me, all aimed at Aaron (another story that you'll never read here).
Isn't it pretty? Don't you wanna just KISS IT?
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