Or at least it would be if I wasn't being constantly bugged by a relative. I kid you not, every single correspondence is tagged with, "Send me pictures, send me pictures, send me pictures right now." All of the Banshees got birthday cards signed off with "And tell your mother to send me pictures." I have three unopened emails in my inbox because I just don't want to deal with it anymore. My darling dearest beleagured spouse says that it's probably because this person thinks of herself as the family historian, and that she doesn't have any children of her own and...and I say that this is no excuse to behave rudely. The Banshees' grandparents don't lay siege to this level and they surely have more right to. I'm a polite person and I revere family, but if you can't write a single bit of correspondence without nagging about a subject you've already been asked to back off on, then I kinda hope you do get into a snit and quit writing me altogether. I have three small children and a rather untidy life to take care of right now, thankyouverymuch, and I will take pictures/write letters/blog/ draw sanskrit characters in henna all over my pudgy body in my own time and when/if I ever get around to it. Thank you for paying attention and not squalling at me to do what you want me to do as if I have no other schedule than to please you.
[deep breath] Sorry. We shall now resume our regularly scheduled gardening blog. Which has me contemplating larger propane tanks so I don't have to worry once a week about whether or not my citrus is going to get cold roots and chilled leaves. Oh, something about
18,000 gallons. I think that would keep my trees warm for most of the winter, don't you?