Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Knit one, Knit one, Knit one ...

Year before last it was scarves. This year it's hats. Next year ... who knows! I'm trying to knit as many hats as possible for Christmas this year. If I don't make them all in time I'll just have to take a picture of the yarn and stick it in a box with a bar of chocolate or something. I always seem to get great ideas for Christmas gifts a little too late. I've already made three hats: the first one was for me, the next was for a yoga teacher and the third was Dave's. I'm making Dave's mother's hat, Dave's father, Dave's brother, My mother (hat AND scarf!), my father, my three sisters and my brother. That's nine hats. IN FOUR WEEKS!!! That's 2.25 hats per week! I don't know if I can do it (in fact, I'm almost certain I can't), but I'm going to try anyway. It's the thought that counts, right?

I just hope that knitting all of these hats doesn't turn me off to knitting like all of those scarves did. Granted, the scarves were all garter stitch with novelty yarns, which is really difficult to knit sometimes because they are so uneven and you can't tell if you've dropped a stitch or if you've accidentally increased. This year, with the hats, I'm only making one using a novelty yarn and that's only because it's going to match a scarf I made for the recipient last year.

I also hope that with all of these hats knitted I'll gain the confidence to try something new, like cables or interesting patterns with increases and decreases all over the place. I've also wanted to try sock knitting, but that looks so complicated to try right now, besides that, the yarn is so small and the gauge is so tight. I'm not a very proficient knitter as is, and I've never seen anyone else knit up close before. I'm entirely self-taught, which means that I have no clue if I'm doing something blatantly wrong that an experienced knitter would pick up in a second.

Anyway, wish me luck! If I knit like the wind I just might be able to do it! (And thank goodness for the three-plus hour car ride from Dallas to Houston!)

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

First Draft

It's finally chilly here in Texas. It's our first winter in the new house and my, my, my is this little sucker drafty. And the furnace sounds like there's a freight train going 80 mph in our back yard. And I don't have a decent set of slippers!

I've been through a cold winter here in Dallas. Last year we had snow that stuck for like, three or four days!!! But in the old drafty house we used to live in I had a nice set of shearling slippers and there were gas furnaces in just about every room.

Now that we have central heat and air conditioning I'm kind of missing the heaters. They were quiet. Heck, they were silent. Just imagine trying to get nice and toasty and curl up in bed only to almost drift off when all of the sudden it sounds like there's a semi on top of you.

The cats are having a rough time dealing with the cold, too. They're warming up by way of double occupancy.

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This cold weather has also lead me to conclude that I don't have nearly as many cool sweaters as I though. I guess I should go out and buy more cool sweaters. Nod your heads, people... Thanks a bunch!

Also, I've been working on my scorpion pose a lot. Although it still looks like crap, I just have to take a look back at how incredibly far I've come. At one time I couldn't keep my arms under me, my elbows would always splay and my head would come to the floor, but look at me now!

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Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Weekends (bombs) away

It's been approximately four years since I've seen Betzy. The last I saw of her was waving at her in the back seat of a car as she pulled away from her wedding. I was her maid of honor. I didn't go to the afterparty because I was the only person that couldn't tell that my then boyfriend was an asshole. C'est la vie.

Since Betzy moved to North Carolina (envious) she's settled down like I have: small house, too many animals. Except her husband isn't a bookselling poet. Her husband is a marine, who is now deployed overseas. I have so much respect for Betzy, mostly because she looks happy and blessed to people that don't know her. Most people don't under stand what an enormous accomplishment that is. Life has dealt her many opportunities to give up. Depression (not the rainy-day kind, but invasive, crippling depression)runs in her family. She's had more ups and downs than the roller coasters at Six Flags and now her husband is fighting a war that I've given up railing against because too many people I know have sacrificed to fight it.

Betzy and I were in Kindergarten together. She watched my back and stuck up for me. We always looked to one another for guidance, we went through some of the same struggles and we both played violin. I miss the midnight sessions we'd have laying in bed during sleepovers at her parents' enormous house, or how we'd sit on the bleachers during junior high and talk music and take risks. We were both the kind of people who were bound and determined to take the route less traveled. For that reason I admire her and I can't wait to spend some real time with her again.


Last night I came home after a very stressful day and did some yoga. I've been working on my Scorpion pose more and now I can hold it away from the wall for like, a second. My king pigeon pose now sucks, though.

Here's to back bends -- Because you're bending over backwards during the rest of the day anyway.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

On the verge

Sometimes I have to take a step outside of my body, take a look at what surrounds me and ask myself, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?" I'm beginning to wonder these days whether or not I really appreciate being the blanket that other people use to cover their asses. Strap me to a fucking post, people. I have turned into your accountability. I am young and susceptible, and you put me in a position to take 40 lashes in every direction? Is this leadership? Yeah, if you call leading a lamb to slaughter leadership, then call it like you see it.

Only time will tell if I can really take all this. I wanted to be in an environment with a lot of pressure a lot of drive to succeed, but it was only a matter of time before I looked for ways to relieve the everyday pressure of being the seive that filters other people's bullshit. The only thing this gives me is a guaranteed dirty feeling.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Personal space

Decorating a room is really hard. Seriously. If you're lazy (like me) and yet a perfectionist (guilty, too) you have to have things done right the first time so you don't have to do them over again, which is a frickin' pain. So, I agonized over my yoga room. I wanted it to be just the right color, I wanted it to be open and accessible but not too fussy. I wanted it to be a place where I can find solace but still have an explicit purpose. I didn't want it to be a room where stray furniture ends up. It is a yoga room, sparsely furnished and open to possibilities. The walls are minimal and the color should be airy. That doesn't mean that it shouldn't be fun or playful though.

Besides hanging the shades, which are on order, it's mostly complete. We're planning on buying a rug to hang on the one blank wall for a foot rest during inversions. It'll be light and airy, too, probably a mix of green and purple, and hang above the chair rail. On the opposite wall there are stencils of lime-green lily pads behind framed photos of water lilies (one of my favorite flowers).

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Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Stupid neighbors!

I am really warming to our neighborhood. It's small, middle class, has some great views and some really nice routes for jogging/walking the dogs. So far we've met a lot of our neighbors while walking Hornsby and Fitzgerald, one woman that owns a pug is very sweet, but because I can't remember her name for shit, we have resigned to call her "Pug lady." There's also a young pregnant wife down the street with a doberman. She's due on New Years, and her name is Shanna, or Shawna, or Shandra, or something like that. Real sweet gal. Two houses down there is a Mexican couple that doesn't speak any English and has an antique plow painted bright red, along with myriad other tacky yard art not limited to a flower box made from cinder blocks adorned with an orange painted fish. This house we have knighted "Casa de Pescados" or "House of the Fish." With all of this added flavor, we still don't mind the owners becuase they're genuinely nice and they don't bother us.

But, across the street is the Cat Lady. Besides the travel van permanently parked in her driveway with Oregon plates, the house looks normal from the street. But inside there are motives much more sinister. The woman indiscriminantly feeds unneutered feral cats, thereby fascilitating their breeding and their pest status. She scatters cheap cat food by the cupful into her lawn like a spinster feeding pigeons. The cats flock to her front porch for seconds every morning. She's fascilitating the spread of disease and cat poop on to neighborhood lawns. She must be stopped!

I contacted a feral cat service in Dallas and they will soon be working to send traps over to my house so I can trap the cats and have them neutered/spayed and release them. I hate to trap them, but it's for their/my own good. They can't procreate like bunnies and not expect to fall ill from rampant infectious disease. Besides, it's just a matter of time before they vector whatever crap they have onto my cats via their multitutde of fleas.

It is actually heartbreaking to see the litters these cats have that will shy from human touch and be resigned to an early death because one woman was irresponsible.

Stupid neighbors!!!

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Dallas: Dumbass Central

I deal with skads, literally a force, of barely literate people who can't keep their moronic thoughts to themselves. Every day, as I read the crap spewing from panicked and angry people, I'm reminded of a saying: "Opinions are like assholes -- everyone has one and they're all shitty."

But what depresses me even more than reading these diatribes and bullshit is that these people vote. They vote without thinking, without reading and without knowing what they are voting for/against. They vote randomly, they vote haphazardly, and worst of all, they vote early and often.

It's people like this that often complain about confusing ballot language when so many websites, newspapers and magazines have spent so many hours and dollars spelling it out for them. If they would only pick up a copy, read about it and THEN decide ... This, however, is asking far to much from the barely literate people of Dallas.

I, on the other hand (that is attached to a body with feet firmly planted in reality), did so much research into my vote. I spent oodles of time looking into all of the state constitutional propositions, into Dallas' Prop. 1, weighing both sides and sometimes even debating with friends. I made my decision like it was a crucial one, one that deserved the respect and intention that our civic duty implies. In this case, I am rare. Shit, who am I trying to kid? I'm facing extinction.

As a matter of fact, I feel that uninformed voters, the confused ones that were unsure of how to vote on Dallas' Prop. 1, the Trinity Referendum, were the deciding factor. There was only a 6 percent margin in the election. If the vote-yes-against-the-toll road campaign had better informed 4 percent of the voters, if they had kept these morons from bubbling in the wrong oval, then they would have won.

Heck, I don't know if I really care about who won or lost in the Trinity vote. It was a poorly planned but well-executed campaign of confusion. The engineering group designing the contentious toll road that was to pass through the levees of the Trinity River (a dicey situation at best) hadn't even finalized the plans. Their estimates for what the road would cost had margins of error at 20 to 30 percent! That's insane! Why are we voting to approve a plan for a road that doesn't even exist?!

There is a chance that the establishment's preferred road design between the levees will never get government approval, and it might never be built. but by golly, we're going to spend $2 million that Dallas can't afford to have an election on a road that hasn't even been fully designed yet! We can't afford a $2 million election on a road that doesn't exist when we're spending so much money on administrative costs for a city council that can't repair the roads we already have!

I really wonder if any other cities are so frustrating. I wonder if there is anything such as common-sense politics.

Wednesday, October 31, 2007

Good news, bad news and just news: An update.

I've been away too long, folks, and if there are any readers left to wonder, I've been so incredibly busy at work. In fact, I'm still busy, which is why I feel guilty for posting when I should be working on some seriously deadline-sensitive stuff.

Those of you who've e-mailed me to make sure I still have a pulse, thanks. I mean it!

On to the news ...

Hornsby has made a full recovery, and much to our delight he doesn't mind being at the veterinary office, probably because he's already spent so much time there. We took all of the little bastards to the vet last month, which cost us almost $500. Everyone's healthy, and Dawsey surprised us by losing a pound (that's a lot to a cat!), though she needs to lose one more. You can do it, girl!

Speaking of weight loss, I've dropped a pants size! Finally I can go to a department store and look at single-digit pants! Now, I'll probably never be a size 4 or 5, but an 8 is great when you've been a 10 or larger for most of your life. My goal is to get down to a size 6, but that may not happen considering my insanely huge child-bearing hips. DAMNITALLTOHELL!!!

In yoga related news, I'm killing my inversions. I did a wall-supported scorpion last week. It looks like this, but my feet were against a wall, which kept me from falling over myself:



We're painting the yoga room this weekend, which will be fun because after the trip we took to St. Louis I got the most awesome idea for one of the walls, which was to paint large cirlces that represent lily pads on the wall and hang enlargements of some of the water lily photos I took at the Missouri Botanical Gardens on our trip! Should be fun!

Also, if you're wondering how awesome our trip was, check out our photos here. Just to be a tease, here's a sample:
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a shot of Dave from his best side:

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We're planning a trip to NYC, Boston and Chicago next year, so that's probably the last bit of traveling we'll be doint until then.

Also, Dave and I took my twin sisters and my brother in law Brent to the State Fair of Texas, which was a blast! We walked around, rode a few rides and ate tons of great food (and by great, I mean fried cheesecake, Fletchers corny dogs, fried guacamole and Cuban sandwiches!).

Anywho, there's been a lot more than that, but that's all I have time for, for now at least!

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Update soon

Things are slowing down, and I really will update as soon as I can! Until then, admire the incredibly cute photos of the kitties!!!

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Lazy Day

My brain is still fuzzy from the 3-day weekend. Yesterday was Labor Day, but it was raining through midday, so instead of just hanging about like we had planned, we cleaned the house. Bummer. The cats did this:

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And this:

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And this:

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In case you couldn't tell, they love the new chair. Later that evening we went to Rangers Ballpark in Arlington to watch the Rangers get pummeled by the Kansas City Royals.

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And now, I'm back at work... :(

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Backyard trim

I've had my hair cut in a salon only a handful of times. The kitchen, now that's where business is done. I can remember the times I've spent training my eyes on my mother's tchotchke-clad walls easily. Her accosting me to stay still even though I had bits of hair in my nose, in my eyes and wedged between the cutting cape and my irritated neck. Only once has anyone besides my sister Kara and my mother cut my hair, and it was a disaster.

I was still living in College Station, waiting tables at Kerri's Stacked Enchiladas. I was poor (waiting tables does that to you) and one of my closest friends was also the spawn of a hairdresser. Her mom cut her hair, and it was cute enough, so I decided that just getting my bangs trimmed would be safe. So my friend and I stopped into the salon where her mother worked just for a sec or two and I left so incredibly upset, though I couldn't tell my friend because I didn't want to seem ungrateful for the butcher job her mom did on my hair. I swore after that that I would never again get my hair cut by anyone besides my mother or my sister.

Fast forward to 2007 -- I hadn't had a hair cut since February when my sister Kara came to visit, so I asked my mother to bring her scissors when she came up last weekend. My hair had become an unmanageable mop, my bangs were beginning to graze my lips and I had 3-inch long split ends. These are the perils of swearing off salons. But Sunday, just hours before my parents and I were to leave for brunch and their departure, my mother set up a station of sorts in the back yard on our deck and went to work on my tresses. The birds were singing and it was a rather pleasant summer morning, so I'd have to say that it was one of the more enjoyable hair cuts I've had. Maybe more salons should be outdoors...

Of course I'm balanced!


I'm a Balanced Yogi!


A Balanced Yogi

You love your friends unconditionally and accept them for who they are no
matter what their yoga style preference, religious beliefs, or spending habits.
You focus on the good in people and would never try to change them. Almost
everyone feels comfortable in your presence. You live your yoga. You are an
inspiration to yoga students everywhere!

Take the Yoga Journal Yoga Snob Quiz!

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

A visit all too short!

Sorry about my absence. Liv is right, things have been kinda crazy at the House of England. Besides trying to go to all of the home games possible before the Rangers' season ends (like hell they'll make it to October), we've been burning the candle at both ends, taking puppies to the veterinarian, getting $650 tires for Dave's Jeep, working around the house and cooking, though not as much as I'd like. We're still figuring a lot out about this homeowner stuff.

Though, through all the hectic days, it was nice to take a breather when my parents came up to Dallas last weekend. They are so great, except when my father and I talk politics. As long as there is red wine, single-malt scotch and good food, we're a complacent bunch.

Mom and Dad mainly ventured up here to drop off an antique dining table that I'd been pining for. It's a low-back, hand carved mahogany dream, and fully expanded will sit around 10 people! It'll take some cleaning and dressing up, but it's a fine piece! We also got Dave an armchair this weekend, a nice plush, deep-seated job. I've been inhabiting it for the most part!

We had an awesome time going to a minor league ball game, having brunch at our favorite little cafe, and checking out some of our regular haunts. Dad might be up here for a spell this weekend, he's gotta pick up a rifle being delivered in Fort Worth.

I'd post pictures, but I'm a moron and forgot to put a card in my camera, so this weekend was stored on the internal memory, and I've no connector cord with me. But I'm alive, and well, and really freakin' tired if you were wondering!

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

I'll never leave home!

It is beginning to take so long to take care of everything and get out the door in the morning that I'm beginning to think that the house would rather have me there! Not that I'd mind, you know, staying home and tending house, freelancing when I can, but as long as I have to commute this is beginning to become very cumbersome.

Dave picked up Hornsby from his progress check-up at the Vet yesterday, and they prescribed him ANOTHER treatment. The myriad pills, creams and drops are killing me, and taking a toll in the morning which is when I have to:

-Make coffee
-Water the plants/lawn
-let the dogs out
-feed the dogs/cats
-get dressed
-do my hair/makeup
-pack my lunch
-give Hornsby whatever eye drops/ear medicine/pills the vet prescribes

IT'S ALL TOO MUCH!

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Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Pupdate

So, Hornsby is a real mess right now. I'll have to take pictures of his mutilated eye. It's incredi-gross. He had surgery yesterday on his eye and he was neutered at the same time. Poor guy. He's getting along OK. We had to put the E-collar back on, which means that he can't navigate the house for shit. He takes more medication than a retiree.

They shaved his eye and he has some stitches around it, which doesn't look too appealing, but overall he's doing OK.

As far as I can tell he had some kind of kennel cough that has cleared up since I last hyperventhilated about it. He's out of the cough medicine and we finish the antibiotics tonight so we'll see what happens. It doesn't look as though Fitzgerald caught whatever he had, so I guess we're lucky in that respect.

Now, this past weekend I went to Houston to spend some quality time with my dear sister Sara for her birthday. She shares a birthday with her twin, Kara, who was vacationing with our brother and sister-in-law in the Rocky Mountains. So, I couldn't leave Sara to party without some kind of family representation. Boy am I glad I decided to come along! It was a blast. From hanging out with some of her good friends and people I knew like, forever ago, it was just a fantastic time! The copious beer didn't hurt either!

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Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Bump in the road

Hornsby was due for his eye surgery/neuter yesterday, but it seems that he may have developed a case of Kennel Cough. Worst Case Scenario: Canine Distemper.

We're really hoping it's just Kennel Cough, though we're taking every precaution, keeping Hornsby quarantined to the guest room and crated throughout the day. This is especially hard because he's a puppy, and puppies don't like to be isolated, therefore we are getting very little sleep.

Hornsby isn't a fan of the crate, like, at all, and no matter how many treats/toys/hugs we give him, every time we put him back in the crate he freaks out and starts crying for like an hour. Imagine that you put him up after taking him out for his evening potty break at 8 p.m., you're in bed by 11:30, he's gotta go to the bathroom at 3:30 a.m., and you don't get back to sleep until 4:30 a.m. to wake back up at 6:30 to get ready for work... it's a nightmare!

We're just praying that he gets over this and we can move on. I'm getting to the point where I just want to get back to everyday life, get back into a routine that I can rely on to ground me throughout the rest of the day. Because things are unpredictable at home, work has becom more strained. I'm trying to meet deadlines and tie up loose ends on projects but I feel like I'm grasping a straws, as if I'm climbing a mile-high mountain with no toe-holds for the first 20 feet.

Here's hoping I can get some momentum...

Thursday, July 26, 2007

Turning double plays...

If you didn't see it, Hornsby was featured on www.readlarrypowell.com yesterday! If you need to reaffirm your belief that there are genuinely good, caring, outstanding people on this earth, go to that site and read a few bars.

In other Hornsby-related news, the pupster is doing good, getting along well with the kitties and Fitzgerald! He's doing great with the housebreaking, learning the ropes with the crate. He's enjoying his bed and new family, as far as I can tell. You be the judge!

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Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Face-licking good!

So, I think we're pretty set on keeping the puppy, who we've named Hornsby. Doesn't ring a bell, strike a chord?



His namesake is Rogers Hornsby, arguably the best secondbaseman in history with a .358 career batting average, the highest of any righty and only 9 points behind Ty Cobb. Born in Winters, Texas, Rogers Hornsby was twice a National League MVP and led the league in RBIs and home runs.

(This is all gleaned from Dave, the walking baseball encyclopedia. He can remember all this junk but forgets to do the dishes... peculiar.)

Hornsby (the dog) is still in recovery. He isn't putting much weight on his bum leg, hopefully he'll re-learn how to use it. He's on pain pills and muscle relaxers, and he's back at the vet this morning for a progress report. Hopefully he'll get to keep his leg. Not that three-legged dogs aren't cute, but I'd much rather him be a happy, four-legged puppy that can run, play and live a long life with his mom and dad!

And now, to the main event:



Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Pupskerdoo Number Two!

I have been hounding Dave about getting another dog (Get it? HOUNDING?), and we've talked about getting a larger one this time, adopting a retired greyhound or something. But Dave took a crash course with fate yesterday and stopped on his way to work to help two women who were huddled around a puppy that had been hit by a car. Dave said the poor dear was slouched and shivvering despite the 90-degree heat, the pup was scared out of his mind. The three of them ushered the little boy into a carrier and escorted him to a nearby veterinary hospital.

Dave called and was in hysterics. He'd stopped to save the dog and ended up at work an hour and a half late. After visiting the hospital later once they had done x-rays, he reported that the chap had a broken leg and would need surgery immediately. Of course, we're suckers, and he's just a puppy, so we OK'd the surgery knowing that we'd be dealing with a short future of poverty: The bill could be as large as $1,300.

I made a b-line to the vet hospital after work yesterday to meet the poorbaby and I'll admit it here that I really fell in love with the guy (he was heavily sedated, so it was easy). Poorbaby's on an IV with a broken rear right leg. He's got the look of a Saint Bernard to him with a little Great Pyrenees. He's about 6 months old, they think, and weighs about 33 lbs. He's got the biggest ol feet, so I think he'll be a sizeable kid!

Anywho, we're running through names right now. I like Leonard, Dave likes Salinger. Both abbreviate well (Lenny and Sal).

Opinions?

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

New zip code, same old bullshit

I am not moving again for a very long time. Very long. Like a decade. About a week into packing up all of our belongings, which by the way seem to multiply exponentially while we're not looking, I was ready to quit and hire a pack of movers to finish the job. And there is truth to adage that "real friends are the ones that help you move." This is a shout-out to my sister Kara, her boytoy Veeeektor, my brother-in-law Marcus and the illustrious Vicki and Bobby, the mom-and-dad-in-law super duo. Thanks bunches!

So, after too much takeout and lots of cleaning/painting/unpacking, we're finally settling in. I've made bread at the new house, which I think is a pretty decent indicator that we're moved in (if I'm unpacked enough to bake then we're at least technically moved in!).

We've already been to IKEA twice, which I have to say, is arguably the best furniture store on the planet. I know there are going to be folks that would disagree with this, esp. Liv and Matt, who beyond all their virtues are still British (love ya, I swear!). Why do I have a thing for IKEA? I'm disorganized. Bad. Every time I waste the money to drive up the Dallas North Tollway to Frisco and run screaming like a Beatles fan into that big blue box I always leave hoping to recant my messy ways. Storage boxes, closet organizers, dressing chests, a new bed, glass-door book cases, a TV bench, a new coffee table: all of it is going to make me more organized, less cluttered and substantially easier to deal with. I just know it.

The worst thing about IKEA? The late-night assembly marathon. Dave's parents stuck around until after midnight on Saturday/Sunday to get our chest of drawers and bed put together. It was an awesome experience, mostly because Dave's dad is really handy with a Phillips-head screwdriver and without his help I would have never gotten that damn bed put together. Seriously.

Another highlight: Dave's mom, Vicki, who is an absolute saint, said "Shit!" when she couldn't get the attic fan to turn off in the new house -- she thought she broke it. A-W-E-S-O-M-E! Dave started hyperventhilating, half-yelling at Vicki for turning the fan on in the first place, when Bobby sternly announced, "IF YOU TWO DON'T QUIT THAT YELLING I'LL SEND YOU BOTH TO CHURCH TOMORROW -- TOGETHER!" That got everyone to chill the fuck out!

Now, this marks the greatest difference between Dave's family and mine: You can put money on the fact that someone will drop an f-bomb at a family gathering, whether mom, dad or the Jemison brood. We're extremely laid-back. We drink on all occaisions we are together, even when they aren't technically occaisions. Expect a good 15-year-old scotch to be poured when I'm in town. Cigars may be smoked, but scotch will definitely be consumed. You can also rest assured that meat in some form will be charred over an open fire, someone will fall asleep in a recliner and that a person that no one likes will be referred to as a "cunt." That's just how we roll. (That's also why Brent, my sister's Scottish husband, fits in with our family so well!)

Also, tragedy struck our house not long before we moved. My computer, which I purchased the summer of 2001, went kaput. We're now trying to replace the old bastard, but it's not looking good. Then, shortly after we moved, Dave's battery for his old ThinkPad went on the fritz. Seriously, when it rains, it motherfucking pours. I may only be able to blog intermittently because of the difficulties at home. I hope that this mini treatise holds you folks over until I can post again!

Much love from the 75228, suckers!