I just slightly blanched the peppers: red cherry bomb, hot banana peppers and jalapenos so I could then run them through the food processor and result in a mixture to douse food with. The fumes filled the air and while our house smelled like Mexico, our lungs were screaming...but not as much as our mouths and internal organs later after dinner.

I'd made the spaghetti sauce from fresh garden tomatoes over whole wheat pasta. Scotty ate the most sauce, he's gonna flame this morning. I pity whatever child sits near him at school as the temps will rise in that room. It's gonna be a 100 degrees again as it is, still no rain, worst gardening conditions in years so I've had to quit on many of many areas and am just concentrating on 10 out of 17 planted beds.

At seven I'd called my other grandbabies to come swimming with us and by late dark all was quiet, everyone asleep, allowing me the luxury of eight hours of sleep as well. I feel as if I've been on a vacation.

Sweet Paula had cracked me up. Opening the mail that had been piled on the kitchen counter while I tended to psychiatric emergencies, she'd sent our family a huge gift certificate to Krispy Kreme. If I hadn't been howling with laughter, glee and bliss I wouldn't have immediately drawn an audience of witnesses to the fact that now I have to share this very, very generous blessing on our family.

Flipping through a magazine while waiting on someone to help me help the kid who wanted to kill me, I was jerked back to other people's reality in O Magazine as I learned I could cut down on clutter in my life by spending $38 at plazatoo.com for a bag to hold my "extra" credit cards. I almost burst out laughing. Who needs extra credit cards? Do they have a clue how many gallons of milk I could buy with $38 and, wait a minute, clutter here is defined by 25 people taking off their only pair of shoes and cluttering up the family room, but then I remembered my girls have tons of shoes that were given to us or that they've bought at yard sales tremendously adding to my clutter. A thousand credit cards wouldn't even be noticed.

I'm really angry about another issue occurring here in our family, I'd fussed already this morning about it to Sarah and Yolie while I clipped pothos plants to root in my newest yard sale planters wondering if it is mentally unbalanced to have 1000 pothos rooting in one's house. I suppose I do it because I can; because it will be successful unlike those who choose to not get jobs. Pothos helps clean the air, Lord knows I need it filtered of the toxins that are emanating from me as I stew in resentment over adults sucking up the AC I'm paying for while watching the cable TV on my bill. Yes, I am doing something about it and I'll blog these consequences soon. This is unacceptable on every level.

Even though I started blogging 4 hours ago, I've revised my words trying to leash my aggravated thoughts. Just as Megamom's kid's accused her of tripping...so too am I on a roll; tripping would be a step up from ranting I suppose, but right now I am enabling a grown man to sit on his butt and that goes mightily against my grain.

Daniel was sitting on the sofa yesterday evening between Yolie and I; pretty much our idea of Heaven, breathing in intelligence and strength from a go-getter like him. He was being so silly, telling us about someone "acting out," jargon only a man who has listened to too many adoption conversations would have picked up. Living with a bunch of guys, my smart son chose the downstairs crappy bedroom, sharing a bath, but getting his cost cut by $25 a month. "You shoulda held out for $50," I'd cracked, while he also told us he was getting his wonderful girlfriend a sippy cup to contain her spills. If she's half the mess I am, Daniel has his hands full: I'm wearing a coffee stained shirt and have soy milk spilt on my shorts.