Today is Tuesday. Made some pizza dough, which is rising. Made some pizza sauce, which is simmering on the stove. Laundry is in the dryer.

Hello, WordPress. I have two blogs at and and another at

I’d heard of WordPress but didn’t know what it was until I looked it up on Wikipedia this morning.

Waiting for the phone to ring. Or an e-mail to arrive. Been trying to find work since May. My youngest has started middle school, which is close to home, so the idea of finding a job seems do-able.

Money is ugly and getting uglier. Sometimes I’ll wake up in the middle of the night gripped with fear.

I do not want to part with this house. I’ve put too much energy, time and money into it to consider losing it. I’m nearly ready to consider applying at a temp agency for ANY work they may have.

Well, this is a cheerful first post.

Another graphic design posting on Craigslist, another resume hopefully sent off. This place is close to home and sounds good. But so have quite a few other jobs. One job sounded EXACTLY like my resume, nearly word-for-word, to the point where I actually wrote them a letter asking if they’d received my resume… and if so, why didn’t you call me, my resume matched your job description nearly word-for-word! Extremely frustrating.

Tonight is “back to school night” at Kid #2’s school. Not looking forward to going. I have lousy memories of middle school to begin with. She seems to be surviving so far, which is the important thing. So I’ll go and listen to the “we have a busy year ahead of us!” speeches. How do I know what they’re going to say before they say it?

I have a stack of 250 postcards to mail out to try and scare up illustration work. I like my drawings. You can see some of them at The illustration idea is rather fragile. But it seems worth pursuing. Too easy to become discouraged. Not everyone draws. Difficult subject for me. Drawing is close to the heart. Not like other work I’ve done.

Kid #1 will turn 18 in a couple more years. Kid #2 just turned 12. So she’s got at least six more years to go. And I’m in no hurry for either of them to leave home once they turn 18. But they’ll technically be adults at that age.

So that’s my goal, my minimum goal. Get the kids to adulthood. Protect my little birds. Provide for them. It’s sometimes difficult to remember how fragile children are, that it takes time and experience to become seasoned to the big, cruel world we all swim around in.

Time to go stir the sauce. And clean the cat boxes. Domestic bliss.


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