This edition of LOLAnne Newz begins with me spending an inordinate amount of time planning fantasy vacations around the globe. Regularly scheduled blogging time! Work time! Sleep time! Dinner-prep-so-I-guess-you’re-eating-sandwiches-tonight time! No minute was sacred when it came to browsing google flights or VRBO. So much time, in fact, that on
Obligatory: Thank you for the kind words and thoughtful messages. I wish I had ready a cathartic post which wrapped any piece of my life up in a neat or profound way. But all I have is puppies. Don’t be fooled by cuteness. My whole world smells like dog. Puppy
Taking a sharp left turn from my previous style (thinking-thinking-OMG-overthinking-crying-crying-catastrophizing) of dealing with my family situation, I opted this vacation to simply block everything out. Instead, I threw myself head-first into the legality of buying pot in California, going so far as to phone a couple dispensaries with questions. (I
I wasn’t born in Paradise, CA, recently obliterated in the Camp wildfire, but in Chico. Fifteen miles and a 35 minute drive away. That’s because my dad was a doctor in Paradise. Being such a small town, my mom’s choices for OBs were also her husband’s bridge partners and hospital
Two nights ago, in the dark and wee hours of sleep, my husband (who gets extremely uncomfortable when I mention him in any way on the internet. Sorry, hon!) rolled onto his side, threw an arm over me, and pulled me close. Trademark move of the big spoon. In that