We went to the lugnuts game last night. It was good and the lugnuts won. Even Gov. Granholm was there, although I would prefer not to associate I was within 20 yards of her, but I guess if I went close to the capital building I would be closer so there you have it. Someone famous that is a politician was at the ballgame. And I saw 2 people I graduated with, one who lived down the street from me, and the other was like a valedictorian or something, something extremely important if you are that person, but pointless if you are anyone else. How cynical I am tonight.
Anyways I was flattered that Josh's boss asked if I was for hire for cello playing. His wife's job is to arrange appointments and activities for the state, (including that Granholm thing) I decided rather quickly that my music is a hobby right now, though after telling Josh and mom I had said that, they said I was selling myself short. Although I wish I were single and could pursue my music actively, it's just not possible with 3 kids. I can practice, surely, but what about events? Josh can't watch the kids all the time I would be away. He has a hard enough time watching them for my games. No, I should wait until the girls are older, more capable of taking care of themselves, and hopefully I will have the time to become more than a hobbyist of music.
Who knows, maybe it's just not meant to be.
The girls were so cute though, the girls started to cheer when the lugnuts (okay anyone) hit the ball. But soon Laurel figured out who was the good team, and started to yell out, Hit it! or Catch it! Way ta go! Run batter run! Even knew when to clap when the music came on. It was fun. The girls were super. I was so proud of them. We even got to meet the guy above Josh's boss. Which I didn't know at the time and still managed to be okay. Even though I was watching the kids like a hawk (which is usual). I'm horrible in social settings with kids anyways. I can't make conversation when I have them with me. I'm always up and down and running around with my head cut off. Which by the way, I've actually seen a chicken with it's head cut off, several thousand times, very interesting. My dad used to raise chickens and butcher them. We had a mean rooster that would attack, so one day my dad was collecting eggs and it attacked him, and must have gotten Dad good, because he went after it with a wooden pole and threw it like a spear. And for the one and only time in his life I'm sure, his aim was true and he ended up killing the rooster. Boy did he swear about cleaning that rooster that night. Nothing worse than cleaning a chicken, than cleaning a chicken after you killed it and didn't expect to be cleaning it. Chickens smell when you're cleaning them, I think they are almost worse than fish. Okay, that was just a little useless fact about me.
Yeah that was a little more than enough that you wanted learn today, huh?
Well that's all for now, folks, tune in next time for "How to clean a chicken in half an hour."
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