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I am a Yankee.  No matter how long I live in The South, I will never *really* be southern – I am genuinely ok with that.

Sometimes, my roots show and as LLV is in the final stretch I can see some places where they show a LOT.  For example, grass.  Kiddo and I spent two hours outside this morning at the park and in the yard.  I wore sandals with a lot of open spaces, and I sat down in the grass whenever I felt like it.  It was soft, and lush, and I would occasionally pet it like it was a big dumb dog sitting next to me.

I never. ever. ever. do that in the South.  Ever.

I can’t even imagine doing that.

The grass around my house is normal southern grass of varieties that can do well in crazy heat and erratic rain.  It has the potential to look lovely from the street.  It is hard and sharp.  It harbors fire ants and scorpions (at least I assume they travel through the grass because they get in my house somehow).  It is alive with things that think I am awful.

Fire ants

Fire ants (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I react to fire ants, more so than most people I know.  My longest reaction to a single fire ant bite was on the order of MONTHS.  I blister and weep when they bite, they itch for weeks under the best of circumstances and are visible for longer than that.  They give me the creeps and I FREAK out when they are on me (or on kiddo).  I cannot imagine just lounging around in the grass in our yard.

The last time I was at the house by myself I decided to give myself a little gift in the way of a giant container of Death From Above.  I treated eighteen ant hills in my yard (including two that choked the lawnmower).  It looks promising, like I made a dent at least.

I am really glad that I had a good morning for lounging in the grass today.

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“Jeff?  If you can stay patient and pleasant for the store, you can pick an Easter candy to try from the big wall of candy…”

We had a great trip through the store and he chose pink bunny Peeps.  At the register the young woman joked about putting them in the microwave (she suggested NOT doing that).  I talked about our soap adventure (Ivory – totally do it) but I started eyeballing Jeff and he was eyeballing me…..  LET’S GET HOME.

Zoom to the car, throw the food in the cabinets, eat one Peep just to have the normal experience (like either of us tasted it) and saddle up – let’s NUKE this sucker.  We kept it from exploding, we de-foiled two Hershey Kisses and jammed them in the middle and swirled them around until it was a sticky mess.

Yesterday I was on a plane.  Today Husband was on a plane and son, frankly, doesn’t get why he isn’t collecting airlines miles as well.

We are in divide and conquer mode as we enter the home stretch of LLV with to do / to decide / to resolve / to be rid of lists a mile long for each of us, and none of the lists overlapping very much at all.

Our reward and reconnection at the end of the first of many strange weeks was a pink sticky sweet hot mess of a moment together.

I’m pleased (and a bit zoomy from the sugar).

Ivory Soap