I would title this, “I am woman, hear me roar” but this isn’t that kind of blog

Still, though. I feel very accomplished. Many times I like to think of myself as an idea person. Like yesterday, when what I had planned for dinner didn’t sound appealing all of a sudden, but grilled pizza did! So I took the stuff I was going to put in the orzo (tomatoes, zucchini, goat cheese, onions, roasted red pepper) and put it on a pizza. Actually, John put it on a pizza, as the grill is usually his domain. Besides, the hard part, thinking of an actual entree, was done. It turned out fabulous.

Then there’s today. I had the great idea that John needed to mow the lawn! Except he didn’t have time, as he spent a lot of time grilling pizza yesterday and then was whisked away with William to a Cub Scout camp. It’s only 48 hours, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t take enough stuff. (Note the sarcasm?) Then I had another idea. I will mow the lawn! All by myself! We’ve lived here over ten years and all this time I’ve mowed it less than once. One time I made John show me how to work the mower just in case something ever happened to him (the same reason I made him tell me the secret recipe to his really good margaritas the other night. Would hate to have anything happen to him and not be able to make a decent margarita. Or mow the lawn). So I mowed the front, mowed half of the back, and then the mower died.

And the two men I admire most caught an SUV for scout camp, and there I was, the day the mower died. I refused to be daunted (and I was already sweating, I mean glistening) and got the dang gas tank myself. I think John didn’t pour it all in like he usually does because he had an issue with the spout. Well, the gas tank really likes me, I must be purtier than John, as it had no leaks or spills at all. The petroleum whisperer, that’s me.

And then three ten year old girls came over for a book club with my daughter, to discuss some book about a girl named Clementine, and eat orange creamsickles. The end.

P.S. I could use a margarita. And maybe some nachos.