Mysterious gift; revealed.

Susan, my mother, has been dangling a carrot-of-a-gift in front of my nose for the past few weeks in an attempt to get me to visit. Lately I've been staying home to work when Eric heads upstate to collect soap. I get more done alone. I get more time to watch things like this:

After a rowdy visit from some dark and mysterious guests last night I was not feeling up to the trip this morning. But here I am, writing yous from the mossy banks of Mohegan Lake. And in my hot little hands is the amazingly smarmy Mr. Monsieur by the gifted Sandra Juto! Eric stood in the corner mumbling something about how the blog is convenient way of getting stuff. Let me tell you Eric, if you're reading this, jealousy will get you nowhere. (Dirk Diggler's words, not mine.)