We've been having a series of nice days and I've been wasting them indoors. I should go and do some yardwork, or better yet, go and take pictures of abandoned buildings. I'm just not comfortable about the latter with a baby in tow.

Amazingly, I've been called selfish for volunteering to make a cake from scratch. My son is milk intolerant, so I'm not having anything with milk products because I'm too cheap to buy the expensive formula (and I'm seriously loving all the weight nursing is helping me to lose, although that's slowed down now). My Grandma's birthday is coming up and we'll probably celebrate it with Thanksgiving. My Dad was telling me to not worry about making the cake at Wal-Mart as I have been lately since I can't eat it - they'll just get it from No Frills. I don't really follow that logic, but I told him I found a milk and soy free recipe for chocolate cake and I'd gladly make that. He basically said that won't taste good and just because I can't have cake doesn't mean no one else can. I'll probably re-open the subject to see if I can make the cake my present because I don't know what to get her and have no money. I would seriously like to at least decorate it even if I can't eat it.

Two friends I've had for about ten years are both having marital problems, which is sad. One says she and her husband will divorce when it's convenient and the other has hinted darkly at it. The first one seems to be justified, but I don't know all the details of the either one. I'm really praying they can work it out. It's just.... really weird.

I've really gotten out of writing and I was doing so good. I hope to get back into it now that Luke is sleeping through the night and napping. I've kind of lost how the characters relate to each other -- the groove is gone. And I just stall at the transitions. The antagonist just stepped forward and said "Aha! I'm bad!" and changed the direction of the whole thing. Then I stopped writing.