the urge to paint

Time dwindling down until R gets home from work and the mood of the house shifts-not necessarily in a bad way-definintely a louder messier way-but not a bad way. The injection of testosterone probably does me good, although for now I am relishing the last few moments of PEACE AND QUIET. I am so happy that tv exists, especially for these last few minutes when I can get the little one to become comatose enough to stop asking me questions-even if the sound of her sweet voice has to be replaced with Scooby Doo. I spent a good afternoon raking leaves, flipping through a magazine, helping the little one paint a masterpiece and don't feel a bit guilty about the idleness. I can tell it's fall because I have the urge to paint. Every one of my walls is an unattractive colour in the fall. And the holidays always bring the urge to have a perfect house. Har har.