The light draws nearer

Sorry it's been so long, guys. I was thinking an anon blog would allow me to blog more freely, thus more often, but things have been a little bleak around here and who wants to hear it, really. I forgot if I said already -- we've decided (1 1/2 years after buying our house) to downsize. We ... just ... can't ... do ... it. And the pressure of being house-poor is phenomenal. You know things are dire when you almost cry with gratitude when the librarian cancells your $6.00 fine, y'all.

How I wish that were an exaggeration.

The bright side is that once we are through this process we'll be in a much better place, barring catastrophe, to do normal people things. Like buy maternity clothes. Or cut our hair. Or go on an occasional trip.

I can't wait. But until then, we are scrimping, and painting, and cleaning. So, as I said, a *little* bleak.

BTW, did you know that when you paint a lot, your gas oven can smell like lighter fluid when it lights because it's burning the fumes from the drying paint? My first thought when I was making lunch yesterday was crumb, there's no way a potential purchaser's home inspector will miss that smell. Will we have to buy a new oven, too? But no, the smell is temporary and goes away when the paint has dried. Crisis averted.

Finally, a funny thing: today I let the kid use a small pair of real scissors (very closely supervised, of course). I was watching him and thinking, "this must be what teaching your kid to drive is like." All my instincts were like, danger! danger! But properly supervised -- making sure he did it safely -- it was alright.

My rules for regular scissors, BTW:

1. Only when supervised by me.
2. Only when sittng at the table.
3. The hand not holding the scissors cannot touch the paper while the scissors are cutting (this means lots of fringe).
4. You must say, "very carefully!" before every snip.
5. The snips must be slow (to make sure my hand is out of the way).