I'm alive. By the way.
Life in Nebraska hasn't managed to off me yet, even though it turns out I'm allergic to corn pollen and they have these wasps who've evolved to be so large that they can flap up and snatch CICADAS. And no one has tried to shoot me, even though I get the distinct and constant impression that my being an "Uppity Woman" is a serious danger to local social order.
It's really hard to be happy or hopeful here. We're both struggling with our jobs and everything surrounding farm communities is SO functional. People here must (well, do) wonder what the point of me is.
Not to mention that I didn't put Jon through two years of college so that he could wear a beard-net to his factory job everyday.
But the Huskers do play an hour away and Jon has managed to go to 6! Games! since the move sooooo...
In other "news"- we got our first smart phones, which I mostly use to google the plots of suspenseful movies while watching them to prevent afraid-ness and public squealing.
And a cat. His name is "Otto", which is what the shelter where he'd been for 3 years had called him. Possibly because he'd been run over by an "Auto" and broken his pelvis. Before the auto, he had a family that declawed him, taught him to like kids, and let him drink out of faucets. No one is sure where they are in this. They may have surrendered him because of the vet bills, or they may still think he's lost. If that's the case, they can have him back because he's very meowy and he's a morning person. If not, well, I'm a sucker for big shaggy mutts and I guess I don't mind the purring.
Vlad, our hedgehog, is still kicking too: kicking Otto's butt. He's really into chasing that poor guy whenever he gets a chance.
|Inside that dark, prickly cavern, is his face.|
Anyway, I'm here and have nothing better to do than start blogging again.