Congratulations to my friend who is expecting her third child!!! She is overjoyed!!! And we are with her!

Well, six weeks of carroty-orange hair is now swallowed up in ordinary brown hair, with a hint of ash, or is that ashe? I have to tell you, I REALLY didn't like my hair carroty orange, especially not with jet black eyebrows, not that I have much in the way of eyebrows. Still, some things in life you just don't mess with.

I went back to Fantastic Sam's, clutching another coupon. The German girl who had inflicted this orange hair upon me, the innocent, had just gone home, so I took the Asian lady sitting there. She said red hair was hard to get rid of (groovy). I'm having fun tonight ending sentences with prepositions, see? So, she had to go with some ash, which was scary because my sister always said, Ash is to be avoided at all costs. But anymore, ash sounded better than carrots.

There was a girl walking toward Fantastic Sam's in the parking lot and I beat her to the door, not obnoxiously or anything. No sooner had I sat down, which was instantly, than five more people walked in. So that made 6 waiting for a turn, but the parking lot girl left. Talk about ol' KEM slipping right in under the wire. I was wearing my Kat in the Hat hat because what is worse than carroty-orange hair if it isn't being pushed out of your scalp by solid grey? I could have matched Earl Grey, come to think of it, only he's slightly cuter. Really, a sinus infection and bands of grey and orange hair at the same time are enough to make you wonder why your husband married you. I wonder if he wonders that. Of course, only yesterday I read in the paper that grey and yellow combo is the latest and greatest in decorating trends, just not on your head and just not grey and ORANGE.

Did not sleep last night. So, after I report the excellent news that my nephew's surgery went really well, I am eating a bowl of Cheerios with sugar and going upstairs. My sister said they took my poor nephew's collar bones out and cleaned them. Hmmm. I picture an old jolly washer woman with long apron and cap sitting on a stool, standing the bones in a bucket of bleach in front of her and scrubbing away all the while singing a merry tune. Somehow, I don't think that's how it went. But however it went, the poor little guy (age 14) is in excruciating pain (making allowance that his pain threshold is non-existent, which I think he inherited from his Aunt KEM).

I found out what really happened, he had jumped off this roof outdoors two times successfully and it was the third time that was the "charm." Isn't it always? And his friend was videotaping this amazing act, but my sister doesn't have the nerve yet to watch it. This is some new weird sport invented somewhere far away, it involves various things, including jumping off roofs (or is that rooves?), I guess. She told me the name of it, but I can't remember. All I know is it rhymes with Hardcore. Because I repeated it to her as Hardcore and she said, No. But it does rhyme with Hardcore, it just isn't Hardcore, it's Parcor or something. It sounds pretty Hardcore to me, rolling off roofs.

Now I know why Anne of Green Gables did not appreciate her carroty-orange hair, even though I thought orange hair was made for her.

Can you tell I've had no sleep?

Ordinary KEM of Flaxen Locks