Shut up, it’s the thirtieth of January. A whole dang twelfth of the new year is (almost) gone! What the shit. When did that happen. I feel like I snoozed right through it. (Also, I spelled twelfth like twelf and stared at it for at least a minute before deciding it didn’t quite look right. Who writes out that word ever? No one, that’s who. And me.) Happenings in the piggy household this week consisted primarily of registering for gobs of baby crap I never knew existed (look at this George Jetson swingaling! I don’t want it, but I so want it.); … Read More