I get to elastic

so I blog. It works for me. Probably just a habit now, although I never want to do the elastic. I never want to cut them out or sew their seams, either. Why do I do it? I want to sew, damn it!

Or don't I.

Ants are better. Be the final clean-up soon, I sure hope. Wish I could have seen where they came in. I have some old spackle I blocked up a couple of possibilities with. Didn't work. Now will calk around the window fame and maybe the sill corners. Got the calk. I'm nothing if not foresightful. And forgettful and neglectful.

Does oatmeal hurt dogs? I use it for the dog when I run out of dogfood. I'm almost out and don't know if I've the money for more groceries this month. Is it even the middle of the month yet? Really was hoping on that stupid card which still isn't here.

Got another bill. One I wasn't expecting. Darn. Damn, even. Even son of a bitch, et al.

What does et al mean? Think I use it wrong. I've got a dictionary.

More than one probably. On line dictionaries, anyone? Do I bother? No. I just wonder. Be easy to google, wouldn't it.

Walking seemed better until it didn't. I'm staggering a bit. Still moving like I'm 90 or have forgotten how to walk or something. Think I want a nap.

Think I'll look at the skirt pattern and directions. It's gotta be easy enough for me. Musn't it? Wonder what size elastic it calls for. Maybe I'll just use what I have no matter what it says. If I can. Sewing, my style, is an indefinite persuit.