Dear Kid,

Report of the Day:

Dad woke me up at 9:21am.

Ordinarily, this would have been a big ol’ breach of the Don’t Wake Me Up rule, but I had (sort of) agreed that it would be ok. And I didn’t have the energy (and by “energy” I mean enough caffeine) to argue. Or talk. Or grunt.

So I got up, threw on some clothes (figured if he wanted to wake me in the middle of the night, then he was just going to have to deal with a makeup-less wife), told him as long as he got me some coffee on the way I was ready to go.

I kissed the Puppy on his nose, put him away, and we left.

We were headed (I know you’re holding your breath just dying to know) downtown for Books by the Banks.

Books, as you may recall, are those things that have words printed on paper. They’re a little old fashioned (perhaps) but some of us love them. (See “Library”.)

Books by the Banks was down at the Duke Convention Center (which means “big space” in Cincinnati-ese). The amazing Susan of Working Moms Against Guilt (shout out—love her) was there speaking on a panel about social media, lots of authors were there, and—wait for it—the Bloggess was there.

That means nothing to you. But she’s kind of a big deal in the blogging world. The same way Michael Jordan is kind of a big deal in the basketball world.

I was impressed.

I also met C. A. Newsome who writes murder mysteries set in Cincy dog parks. Which is impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the art she paints for the covers of the books (amazing puppies). Here is a helpful link, because I’m that kind of gal.

There were lots of sessions that sounded interesting but we had to leave because Dad’s reffing later.

So we drove homeward and stopped at the Montgomery farmer’s market where we bought fresh coffee (yay) and some farm stuff (including bee pollen which I will have to investigate). Our final stop was for bird seed and a new feeder.

At home, Dad snarfed a quick lunch while the Puppy and I hung the new feeder and filled everything up. The birds are happy.

Meanwhile, the Puppy discovered that someone has moved into one of our downspouts. Do you know how hard it is to dig into a downspout when you are a small canine? I got a flashlight so I could look in to see who was there. Turns out, no one was home at that particular moment. The beast is quite sure someone was there recently (and who am I to question his nose?) and was Not Amused when it was time to go inside rather than continue the search for his new friend.

I think that’s a pretty good start to a day, don’t you?

Now to football and other important matters.

Love, Mom