Sunday, October 2, 2011


Thursday morning was the best morning I've had since moving to Kansas. I spent it in the cemetery with a friend of mine who's forgotten more about stone than I'll ever know. We wandered about, him pointing out different stones to me and telling me how I can make some of the repairs myself. At one point we can across a stone that was face down in the dirt: Him: have you flipped this over to see what's written on it? Me: no, it's too heavy Him: Pfft. It's not THAT heavy. Me: you can say that 'cause you're 6'3" and a fucking monster. I, on the other hand, am 5'2" and...well, NOT a monster. (and he IS a big, big guy - not big as in fat, but big as in muscular. If he wasn't such a softie I might find him intimidating - but don't tell him I said that). I came away from our meeting with high hopes and feeling great. And then Hubs came home and I reverted back to my usual 'total fuck-up who can't do anything right and knows nothing about anything' role. *sigh*.....



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