I read a fact on Twitter last night that cracked me up, and it went something like this:  "If a person consistently farted for 6 years and 9 months, the force of the gas would make an explosion like an atomic bomb."  Personally, if that character was my husband, he'd be a world power!

In the snoring department, however, I'd be a global leader.  I don't know how my husband tolerates it without earplugs, bless his soul, because I often wake my self up emitting the most undignified noises created by woman-kind.  I don't have any medical problems to blame it on, like sleep apnea or nasal polyps, it's just something I do when I sleep deeply.  I do love to sleep, though, don't you?

When I was hosted on fellow author's blog last week, (Albert Robbins III), one of his questions was, "What is in your refridgerator right now?"  I listed every grocery item in there, but upon reflection these past few days, I should have answered HUMBLE PIE.  Here's why.

I have some skin cancer issues that required multiple biopsies and that liquid nitrogen freezy-stuff that burns the hell out of your skin,(especially when it's on the face) Tuesday. The process drained me emotionally.  My body ached.  I didn't write that day, either, which is a shame because that equals a waste of a day, and I don't like waste.
 

When the biopsy on my collar bone began itching last night, I thought about those who have to endure open heart surgery, and what they must go through as they recover.  I remembered my son, who had heart/lung surgery when he was only a year old, and how the surgeon cut a crescent from his upper back to the front of his armpit, and cracked him open like an egg to fix him.  Two days afterward, this baby was pushing his IV pole down the halls of the hospital with both hands, and smiling at all the nurses.  


This morning I had humble pie for breakfast and counted my blessings.  It was a delicious reminder to be grateful for what you have, and thankful it's no worse than it is. (Burp)