(I'm no rubber stamp designer, but shouldn't there be a little bit of that fourth wheel showing?)
In the middle of creating in my Playhouse, I stopped to talk to one of my sisters and absently looked down at the floor. And focused. Why are the little dark striations in my hardwood floor moving? Too much coffee? Too many meds? No, alas, ANTS! I am trying, as I bump along on the other side of life's hump, to embrace all of God's creations. Truly. Ants, in particular, are quite fascinating and ingenious little critters, but, I'm sorry, God, I don't like them. Or I should say, I don't like them inside my Playhouse or inside the Big House. Hate them, in fact. My Rules For Bugs, nothing original, is that if you're outside, I'll leave you alone; if you're inside, no such promise. The ants quickly became toast. I can't imagine what drew them inside. There is no water. I take my vodka straight. There is no food. Well, except for that one corn chip.
Gotta run. We're meeting Rachel and the twins at the Winchester Mystery House. If you think I'm cray-cray, you should click on the linkie and read about Mrs. Winchester. Tragic life she had, really, and I shouldn't poke fun at her idiot synchrocies. When Dan was the age the boys are now, he started begging us to take him to the Winchester Mystery House because the billboards advertising it fascinated him. It was quite outside our budget and of no scientific worth, so Mister would have none of it.
Stamps: Great Impressions G326; ASX Grass 37551;
unmarked "road"; sentiment Imaginations! H3538;
unmarked foam "cloud"
Ink/markers: SU Night of Navy, Brocade Blue;