Pink Floyd, The Division Bell 1994
First and foremost! Until Midnight, August 31st, Paper Coterie is giving away $40 worth of product (excludes shipping). Seriously -- anything you want -- photo books, personalized journals, memory keepers, personalized cookbooks. $40 worth of it is yours. At the end of this post on my review site, Queen of the Free Bees, you can find the details. There is no catch. All you have to do is simply create an account on their site and get busy choosing which product you want. Details are at the end of this post - see what I did just there!! I am not making you read the whole thing - just go to the end.
Um, today's post title is adequate. Quite simply, I feel marooned. With Arun in school every afternoon now, there is not quite enough time to do anything meaningful, such as go into Kansas City or to the zoo or anything like that. Instead, I meander around my Soul-Sucking Suburb and thus, fill my days. Arun is quite happy scampering off to school ever day after lunch. Me? I am still feeling a sharp sense of loss.
Fortunately for me, my Soul-Sucking Suburb has a wickedly awesome pet shop that offers some distraction from the shrill keening and general rending of garments. A pet shop that just happened to be selling a Rosehair tarantula spiderling (sling). The same sling I have had my eye on for well over a month. We went into the pet shop on Saturday and I discovered the sling had just molted.
Gentle Reader, it is difficult to resist a tarantula sporting a new set of threads.
And so we brought her home.
uricating hairs. Which itch. Like hell.
A few months back, I was explaining to my friend Celeste (aka Average Jane) that I choose my T names from the Social Security Admin Top 10 baby names. I am careful in choosing the names for my Ts and try not to choose names of anyone's children. Celeste laughed and said that she would be fine with me naming my next tarantula after her.
Therefore, I decided to name our newest tarantula Little Celeste (because she is littler than Human Celeste. Obviously). Arun calls her Brown Celeste (because he's racist. Obviously.) Anjali calls her Aunt Celeste (because she's confused. Obviously.)
Little Celeste is settled into her home, usually nestled under her piece of cork. Here, she ventured along the sides of her cage to greet Daniel.
To make up for the plethora of Spider Snaps, may I offer you some Simian Snaps as way of an apology???
The boy has a reputation to uphold, after all.