Poor Seahawks

Being from Washington state, the team to root for was a no-brainer. So, now that the bad calls and craziness of the game are a memory, we can all collectively sigh and say "Dang it!"

Oh well, there's nothing like an excuse to make a bunch of unnecessary (and highly bad for you) finger foods and crowd around a TV and scream and bang your chest for four hours, while washing everything down with near-lethal amounts of Stewarts Cream Soda. It was fun, and the kids were getting into it, too.

Of course now I never want to see Seven-Layer Taco Dip again, or anything that resembles a shrimp. Not for a looooooong while. UGH.

Back to normal today. I attended a church conference on Saturday and the stress was on "Being Prepared." My church is BIG into this stuff.
So I am now motivated to update our 72-hour kits. Frankly, I hate doing it, but it is always peace of mind to know we have them for any reason. Each family member has a backpack with basic necessities and nine small meals inside. I found out about some really cool websites that sell water packets and battery-less flashlights (you shake them and they glow, way cool) so my project this week is to get those backpacks updated.

I didn't get to write all weekend for obvious reasons, and I am nervous because when I stay away from my Writing Muse she tends to leave in a huff, and I'm always left scrambling, trying to remember what I didn't get a chance to write down. Hubby got a digital voice recorder for Christmas from my Dad--sorry Dad but I've all but outright claimed it as MINE and I've been using it a TON for times I can't get to a pen and paper. It's wonderful.

So, this afternoon I'll sit at the computer and see if the Muse has been waiting for me. One can only hope.