Mar. 2nd, 2004

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In my dream last night I traded in my children for eggs. Yes, you too can become a termite queen. *facepalm* I was horribly embarassed for most of the termite-queen segment, because I kept having to take 'private time' to go lay eggs.

At the end it was all good, because I started a business making upscale purses out of the egg sacks.

Foggy frosty morning - my tires went flat a mile down the road, and I'd thought about, but neglected to bring my tire pump. Moron, says I to myself. I need to listen to me when I have these flashes of 'oh, I should... nah.' The U-Village was all fogged in - I couldn't even see the hill to campus until I was within a block or so, and when I entered the fog bank, it was as if the temperature had dropped 10 degrees. Brr.

Of the good is that I haven't yet succumbed to the lure of planting things in my P-patch, so nothing got killed by the frost. I'm about to start some tomatoes and basil and stuff in yogurt cups on my windowsill. I keep seeing lemon trees in the garden stores, but I still don't have anywhere to put one. (And I think I want limes or tangerines anyway.)

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Misha Day

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