10% Chance

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Have I mentioned I hate phones? Particularly cell phones, as they allow you to be reached anywhere, anytime, by anyone. (I get the itchies just thinking about it - being hemmed in makes me nervous. Perhaps this is why my various stays in corporate America never lasted longer than 2 years a pop.)


The universe threw me a bone this morning when my phone fell in the (clean) toilet. It's drying out in a giant bowl 'o brown rice, but my prognosis is 10% chance of survival. In the meantime, I will relish the fact that our painter is here.


Our painter is here!
Our painter is here!


Seeing as I have been advised not to paint by my doctors, and Una has a full-blown aversion to it, we sucked it up last week and found a great painter on Craigslist (winter is their slow, slow season). The dining and baby's rooms are finally getting done! Sweet baby Jesus hallelujah!


Living room will be a custom pale (pale) pink/coral color and baby is getting Benjamin Moore "Misty Gray."