Human bird feeder

 Someone sent this to me yesterday:

I thought, "Yes! Why have I never done this before?" and decided to do it immediately.  As it turns out, all my years of education didn't prepare me for the task of making a face feeder, and in the end, I couldn't figure it out.

Then I realized that I don't have to make a face feeder; I can just hold a bowl of bird seed in my hands. So I did that. In the cold. For a long time.

While I was out there with no action whatsoever, I had a dejavu-ish feeling and I suddenly remembered that I have done this before.  Here I am almost 9 years ago in Colorado, holding a bird on my hand.

I'm going to do it again someday when the weather is warmer and I have hours to kill.

Bad biorhythm day

 I'm having what my mom would call "a bad biorhythm day".  First, I was making lentil soup with lots of vegetables.  One of my life goals is to be able to make soup without cutting myself.  The worst was when  I lopped off the end of my pinky finger when I was a teenager making soup for my grandma, and I've been doing it ever since.  So I was chopping vegetables this morning and internally repeating the mantra, "Do not cut yourself, do not cut yourself" and I did just fine chopping 5 carrots, 4 celery stalks, 2 onions, and 6 cloves of garlic.  I was down to the last few cuts on a green pepper when I lost focus and started thinking about something else. Next thing I knew there was searing pain and blood on the finger that I already had a bandage on from cutting it last week. Thanks to God's amazing design for protective fingernails, I didn't lop off the tip of my finger, but I did cut right through the fingernail down into the quick. 

Finished the soup and decided to reward myself with the jello salad I made a couple days ago because I was missing my grandma (the same one I was making soup for when I was a teenager), and it was her recipe.  Somehow, the container did a backflip on the way out of the fridge and dumped itself all over the fridge, my clothes, and the floor. 

About an hour later, Sarah wandered into the kitchen and said, "What happened here?"  I mumbled something about satan, and she said, "Are you just going to leave it like this?"  I said, "Well, I cleaned up half of it so I could close the fridge.  Now I have to take a loud praise break before I can tackle the rest."  But then I discovered that my finger hurt way too much to play the piano as loudly as I needed to in that moment.

Fast forward a couple hours.  I was getting something else out of the fridge and knocked off a container of dip from the top shelf.  It hit the floor and splattered all over the fridge, my freshly-changed clothes, and the cabinets.  I just sat down on the floor and laughed because there's just no way this could be happening again already.  

I should probably just go to bed before it gets any worse.