Watching the local news during the "Wintery Blast" (as one station settled on as a term for the current precipitation phenomenon) is pointless. Seeing the roving reporter shoving her microphone in the face of patrons at a diner (yesterday morning), and asking them if their drive in had been difficult, and how they were feeling about "all this snow!" was the height of amateurish broadcasting. You know what? When it's snowing a lot, there isn't much more you can say. All together now. "It sure is snowing!" End of story. But, no. My local NBC affiliate station found a way to lower the standard. I would say that would be holding up the front page of newspapers and reading off the headlines since most people hadn't been able to get their papers that morning was laughable.

Well, the girls and I are snug as bugs in rugs inside my little city apartment. We had an all-house cleanup yesterday. My sister and I were talking about my mother and her issues at some point yesterday afternoon, and this propelled me to take any action in my own life. At that point, my depressingly untidy flat seemed like a sure sign that I was becoming the older Ms. Krupnik.

Having it neat has fung-shui-ed my mind. Thoughts moving freely like silver fish in a clear stream.