Hip mama dog walk

Walking the dog late morning today in my UW baseball cap and my "mom sweatpants" and with my harnessed dog on her retractable leash, I looked to be what I am....a suburban lady of leisure doing my lame power walk around the neighborhood to work off the Easter Hershey's kisses I had with my grape nuts. It was a peaceful walk interrupted only by an errant Yorkie which I initially took for a giant rabbit...clearly an escapee as I've never seen a Yorkie without its human attached. He headed south, yapping in rejoice of his freedom.

The last stragglers had made it to school, the working folks had gone to work. It was just me and the dog and the geese and the squirrels and the Yorkie. I was wearing my iPod and normally I have to stifle myself for fear of others hearing my atonal belting. But today, I cut loose to my jams given the empty streets and closed windows. I presume anybody who drove by and noticed my S.L.L. uniform might have thought me listening to Josh Groban or Michael Buble. I know that's what O and A wish I would listen to and stay away from their music as it leads to my singing and dancing to it. (mom, stop)

"....'cause my grandmama hate it, but my lil mama love it...smile for me daddy...whatcha lookin at?...i wanna see ya grill......ya wanna see my what?...ya ya grill ya ya ya grill.... "

No way! I like to work it out! I'm hip hop mom! (mom, really, you're not...please stop) I'm going to continue to walk the dog later in the mornings from now on and express myself through my music as I was clearly born to do, without interference from daughters, the public or Simon Cowell judging me.



The dryer is fixed. We're lucky we didn't have a fire. There was fifteen feet of knitted felt lining the inside of our dryer vent. I haven't ever cleaned the duct myself so I shouldn't be surprised. But the denial fairy assured me that the lint elves would take care of it. The Kenmore guy gave me an excellent tutorial on dryer safety which every person should get along with driver's education and subsequent license renewals.

Many fluffy clumps of gray lint have blown around the yard from the vent cleaning out back. I hope the Hunter lint clumps nurture a few baby birds in their nests, maybe somehow mitigating the losses mercilessly meted out by the Hunter cat over the years. He's tired of trying to snuggle the dog and wants to get back outside to the killing fields.