Kitchen Sink

So, yeah, what if I barely blogged while I was in Montana? There was barely anything I did in Montana. Sewing, knitting, watching HGTV. But you already knew I did all that (whoever "you" are). When we went out to eat on Tuesday night, we were waited upon by a guy who'd had his jaw broken at his last job, whatever that was. Point is, he hadn't been able to taste anything at that shop, since his jaw had been wired shut. But he gave us an extra slice of cheesecake.

I wore my big, blue, fluffy cowgirl/peasant skirt on the plane. Helena, MT security patted me down to make sure I wasn't smuggling anything in my skirt. And yet, they didn't do anything about my grandma's screwdriver that I'd forgotten I had in my purse.

On Wednesday I got my shots I needed before I travel this summer. The tetanus still hurts a little.

Inka has gotten herself loose twice more in the two times I've put her out since I got back. And she always looks so meek and innocent and sad, too, unless she's running right past you playing hard-to-get.