Entry the thirtieth: In case you were worried

I realize that lately I've been blogging like an eight year old, or maybe just a senile old lady or a bouncy annoying teenager. You know what I'm talking about but you've been too nice to say anything. Dressing cats in clothes? Youtube links to Sesame Street? Penguins in little blue socks?

Okay, maybe you weren't worried about the penguins.

Here's my excuse (or at least the excuse I'm going with for the time being): every third person I know is having a baby and I am easily distracted by tangents. In other words, I've had children on the brain, which makes me think my childhood, which makes me thing of all kinds of diverting things that have nothing to do with the work I should be completing now. And then I discover youtube.com or that Sylvie really doesn't mind if you put a onesie on her, and it's all over.

In other news, I'm working from home today and the pottery studio next door is prepping for an art walk this weekend, so I'm learning all about the pottery biz. Conversations sail in from the acoustically-perfect deck next door and through my bathroom window.

For instance, when I put in my contact lenses, I learned that someone is picking up her laptop today and is looking forward to not sharing a computer with her family because one person is always researching trailer pricing and another person is fond of recipes for cranberry jello. No, really. You didn't expect them just to discuss pottery, did you?

Now I can hear someone breaking something that makes a satisfying noise when smashed. The sound is loud enough to carry to the living room but it isn't unpleasant. I'm guessing it's unfired, unloved unfinished pieces which will be turned back into soft clay, but I could be wrong. It could be crockery. Or delicate bricks. Or large china Dalmations with chipped ears. Yes, yes, I could go look, but then I'd know the answer.