The other night, Ruby and I were competing for Farmboy's lap while sitting in front of a cozy fire. Naturally, I won since I weigh 5 times what she does. And then a giant roach crawled across the hearth, and before I could scream bloody murder, Farmboy picked it up WITH HIS BARE HANDS and threw it in the fire. I would probably die from a heart attack if I touched a roach with my bare skin. My method of killing them involves spraying a shot of Raid on the roach and waiting for it to die, then scooping it up with a piece of newspaper and tossing it in the garbage. Eeeuw. Writing about this gives me the shivers.

It seems like roaches never die no matter what you do to them but throwing them into a fire makes them die very quickly.

I like flowers, so there's almost always something blooming in my yard. I think it's cool how some flowers bloom in the winter. Like pansies and camellia bushes. And also, my impatiens are still blooming prolifically, so they must be confused.

The most delicious part of my Thanksgiving day was squeezing my niece's baby chub. Her cheeks look like they might explode at any minute. Also, she has cankles.

Is it animal cruelty if I squeeze Ruby really hard and try to make her fart?

We are blessed with beautiful weather this weekend, the kind that is perfect for bike riding.