There were sighs of relief in our house when I got the text message that Conrad Burns had cancelled his plans to film a campaign commercial at my husband's place of employment. The thought that our junior senator could in any way use my husband--and worse yet, my child, who attends preschool there--in his last-ditch effort to hold on to his job is loathesome. My husband had promised to boycott any attempts at happy group shots, but I'll admit I was worried. And I don't think it's right to put employees in that position. But I'll shut up now, before I get us into trouble. No harm, no foul--at least as long as those plans stay cancelled.
I also apologize for the extended bloggy silence. Connery seems determined to keep me in a permanent state of semi-defeated exhaustion, and it *is* the slow news season. Obviously, the terrorist plot foiling in the UK is huge, but it just makes me depressed comparing Britain's seeming ability to keep abreast of these things to the fumblings of Dear Leader. It's not that I'm the leader of the Blair fanclub or anything, but I did always feel that he at least is not stupid and/or mean.
I'll close by saying that I am counting all my available blessings that I am not flying anytime soon and that I won't have to worry about transporting breast milk anytime soon.