Complain, Complain, Complain!

I know women lie about their ages (Like many women my age, I am 39.) and what size they wear on a good day, but I didn’t know men did it, too.

I asked The Squire what size trousers he wore, and he told me. I confidently went to the store and bought him two pair of badly needed slacks – one Haggar and one Old Navy. Christmas Day, he opened the package and informed me they were too small! Because I had gotten the sizes straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak, I had disposed of both the sales slips and the price tags, so they cannot be returned.

I must love him. I didn’t kill him on the spot.

And still with the ants. Baltimore’s weather is erratic, to say the least. We are just about midway between the Atlantic (not the Bay) and the lower slopes of the Appalachian Mountains, and weather systems bounce back and forth like crazy.  Yesterday morning, I got out of bed and it was raining, and by the time I got to the kitchen it was snowing to beat the band, and snowed most of the day. Today was warm, but very windy. Every time the weather warms up above 40-F the ants become active, and then if it rains or gets cold, they come inside the house to get warm and dry.

Last weekend, I was decanting some punch from a samovar into empty soda bottles and didn’t notice that I had spilled a few drops on the carpet. A couple of days later, The Squire remarked that there was a stain on the rug, but when I went to blot it up, it was a mass of ants, parading from the corner of the room, across the carpet and back. It’s almost January, kids! What’s with this ants stuff, anyway?

My iris are coming up. Not crocus – iris.

It’s going to be a long winter, folks. And then again…