OK. For today. Here. Now.
Let's get back to this thing, yo. I'm going to keep it short and simple, stupid. [KISSS]
* G*ddamn it, I was good at this blogging thing for awhile. I made myself laugh just now, reading over junk I'd written months ago, a year ago, four years ago. And if it made me laugh, then fine, it served a purpose. So I'm going to fire it up again and see how it fares.
* I want to rename the blog. Can I do that? Or do I have to start again? Anyone know anything about that?
* The lil' dudes are now 9 and 3. Finn the Older is a sporty sort, spouting off stuff of stellar significance. Ian the Younger is on the edge of big boy-ness, as well as on the edge of insanity at all times. He's a little nuts, but man, is that kid adorable. Everyone says so (declares his mom). So. You know, take that with a grain of salt.
* Mmmm, salt. I have always craved salt. As a kid, I used to sneak out to the garage to eat the rock salt my dad kept for melting ice off the driveway. And later, as a newly-married woman, my parents gleefully gifted me with a full-sized salt lick (you know, for cows?) in front of my wedding congregation. My doctor says the craving comes from my very, very, very low blood pressure. "Any lower, and you'd be dead," he told me once. And, as it turns out, Ian shares my love of salt. In restaurants, the salt shaker is the first thing he asks for -- "Can I have just one lick of salt, from my hand?" And I give it to him, and I salivate. [Word dork alert: I just looked up the etymology of salivate, thinking it might derive from the French word for salt, which is sel. Nope.]
* I just started using MyFitnessPal, an app for the iPhone that helps track your calorie intake, exercise, water intake and more. It's pretty fun. And necessary, at this point. It was a fat summer. I'll leave it at that.
* The new job -- historian -- is going well, four months in. My job is cooler than yours. True. Fact. Bible.
* One year ago, we were taking a family trip to Newport, Ore.
* Two years ago, I loved this rainbow house.
* Three years ago, I was dealing with an early riser.
* Four years ago, I was hating on Gwyneth Paltrow. Easy.
* Five years ago, I was PMSing.
Over and out. We'll see if this is just another start-n-stop, or if I'm finally back in the mindspace to continue writing. I should. I make me laugh. Sometimes.