Friday chickenBecause it’s Friday AGAIN. And because traditions are important. In which I cover the good stuff and the hard stuff in my week, trying for the non-preachy, non-annoying side of self-reflection.

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

What a week.

Big hellos to all the Chickeneers of the High Seas (that’s a Lucy-ism).

And let’s do this.

The hard stuff

Two weeks to get the Playground ready!

So the Playground opens in two weeks! Gah! Not ready!

We still need a floor.

So this is going to be pretty entertaining.

It’s kind of like that moment when the dress rehearsal sucks but you know that by opening night things are going to rock. Because they have to.

Please laugh hysterically with me.

Not getting the good news we’re still hoping for.

What about now? Nope.

Ummm …. not yet? REALLY? What about now?

This watched pot really needs to start boiling.

Back to my trusting the timing of things practice. How’s that going?

People I love being moody and sad.

So hard.

A dose of writer’s block.

Yes, I know that several thousand people read every single word that goes up here, but it still weirds me out when people I know in real life mention stuff going on for me that I’ve talked about here.

And then I clam up and have nothing to say. And it sucks.

Hurt shoulder.


The good stuff

Derby! Hell yeah!

So Rose City’s Wheels of Justice did beat Rat City.

Sanctioned bout. Final score 124:24.

This is the third time I’ve watched our Portland girls beat Seattle. But Rat City has been undefeated this year (not anymore, baby), and this time we were vying for national ranking, people.

And now that Selma and I sponsor one of the Portland teams, we’re even more obsessive and obnoxious about derby than before.

So it was crazy stressful.

Luckily Dana‘s husband and Cairene both showed up to scream their heads off with me and Selma.

And something worked because whooooooooooooooooooo!

Being at my favorite uncle’s house in the woods.

Even though he wasn’t there.

And then he came back!


Being with my uncle is like going to sovereignty camp.

He lives his life exactly the way he wants to and doesn’t apologize for it. He manages to be sweet and gentle to everyone and still not let anyone push him around.

I admire him tremendously. And being around him is good for me.

Everything being sweet and cozy and perfect.

In the woods. Rain beating down on the skylights. My gentleman friend napping. Gus thumping his tail by the fire.

Drinking tea. Writing.



Yes, we have a holiday that involves eating dairy.

Which is kind of my favorite thing to do anyway.

But when you’re knee deep in goat-milk yogurt and blintzes, life is good.

If this were Twitter, I’d hashtag this entry with something like #yayjews.

Playground stuff.

The Playground!

We have pirate monkey meditation cushions being made!

We have paint picked out!

Extreme excitements!

And … playing live at the meme beach house!

Yes, that’s a Stuism too.

My brother and I have this thing where we come up with ridiculous band names and then say in this really pretentious, knowing tone, “Oh, well, you know, it’s just one guy.”

This week?

Colonel Gustard and the Candlesticks.

They’re playing The Living Room this weekend.

Except that it’s actually just one guy.

That’s it for me …

And yes yes yes, of course you can join in my Friday ritual right here in the comments bit if you feel like it.

Yeah? Anything hard and/or good happen in your week?

And, as always, have a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious weekend. And a happy week to come.

The Fluent Self