I've been thinking about blogging, but somehow I run out of time and interest. Right now I have a cut on my index finger, which makes typing difficult and painful. I've been trying to keep a fire going in the fireplace all evening. I'm not sure if it's the wood or what, but it's starting to piss me off. Max is off in the other room. Sometimes he is so solitary that I wonder if he's okay. He played with Duke today - he seems so happy when he's out of the house that it sometimes make me wonder if he's happy at home. Classes started today. Seems like a good group, but it's the first day, so that could easily change. They may just hate me after a couple weeks. Board drama, can't seem to go more than a few months without that. I don't like to be blamed for things that are not my fault, and that's all I gotta say about that. I've been knitting silly fuzzy scarves. Bingeing on them. But my head is cold so I've moved to a hat. And there are so many projects started that may someday be finished. Perhaps this week I'll send out the quilt that took 8 years. Never mind. I'm addicted to hidden object games. The current one is Return to Ravenhearst. It may just drive me batshit. Not a long drive, but nonetheless.