I was telling my fabulous friend Goddess Lynne (who writes the marvelous blog, The Way of the Moth) that I'd looked over my blog with its new template and decided that it was screaming SPRING at me. In fact, that's not what it was screaming at all, but instead it was yelling at me FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY COULD YOU HAVE PICKED A MORE GIRLY TEMPLATE? I HAVE A REP TO PROTECT, YOU KNOW. So, because I do not appreciate being yelled at in that manner, I found a new template. Autumnal. Ridiculous. GIRLY. That'll show...uh...did I just admit to having a conversation with my blog?
Anyway! I'll try this one on for size. I promise, too, that there will soon be a write up and pictures of our first weekend and kids day at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. I just haven't gotten my head wrapped around it enough to write about it due to all the other stuff floating around in there at the moment. And the YELLING FROM THE BLOG. Did I mention the yelling? In the meantime, though, please feel free to join our new facebook group for the Hounds of East Fairhaven if you have a facebook account. You might also visit Goddess Lynne's blog and check out her fab poem, "Autoharp." Genuine genius, that. Talented friends, I have. Talk like Yoda today, I might!
On second thought, just go join the group and read the poem. Ta, y'all.
Anyway! I'll try this one on for size. I promise, too, that there will soon be a write up and pictures of our first weekend and kids day at the Carolina Renaissance Festival. I just haven't gotten my head wrapped around it enough to write about it due to all the other stuff floating around in there at the moment. And the YELLING FROM THE BLOG. Did I mention the yelling? In the meantime, though, please feel free to join our new facebook group for the Hounds of East Fairhaven if you have a facebook account. You might also visit Goddess Lynne's blog and check out her fab poem, "Autoharp." Genuine genius, that. Talented friends, I have. Talk like Yoda today, I might!
On second thought, just go join the group and read the poem. Ta, y'all.
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