If It Quacks Like a Duck...

I haven't been writing.

My sister and I had a conversation about it.

I told her that each day that passes without me writing or blogging, I feel like a fish that is laying on a hot sidewalk shriveling up.

And then I realized in that conversation that I don't know how to spell shriveling.

I would like to spell it: Shrivelling

But the "sh" sound is too clean, I think it really should be schrivelling.

After suggesting that I spell it as I FELT it, I typed it to my sister as:

S C H R I V V E L L I N G

But I really doubt that's the right way to spell it.





I have no punch line for this story. Instead, a picture!!



This is a documenting of the fact that my friend Carol is an evil genius.

Carol and I have been trading a ceramic duck back and forth for over 8 years. We found it in a dollar store or some odd place like that. It killed us with hilarity so we bought it. She tells the story best here.

Michelle was given the lovely cross from a student when she was working at a local Christian school. Michelle and Carol soon had their own gift exchange going with Michelle and I sometimes collaborating together to try and get the duck and cross back in Carol's possession.

The day we went to dinner to celebrate the marriage of my sister to Michelle's "brother from another mother," Carol got us. She had the bride and groom give their sisters gifts of "appreciation" for "all of the hard work" they had done on the wedding. Mailed from Northern California to San Diego only a handful of days before and then wrapped lovingly by the bride, Carol turned our very family against us. (Do you see? The Evil?!)

And she got us. She got us good.

I think the only way I can get her back is to get pregnant, get her to be present for the delivery and somehow give birth to the duck. Who's the Evil Genius now?!