Like Salt in the Snow

  So it's Tuesday. I always seem to start my posts off by talking about what day of the week it is. Does it really matter? No. Will I keep doing it? Yes. It tells me that you are a very devoted reader if you actually finish reading the post, even after seeing a horribly boring start.
  You see, I'm horrible at starting things, and just as bad at ending them. You can imagine what my essays look like for school, can't you? A start on a topic mid-sentence, and a cliff-hanger ending. Award winners, I'm sure.
  But this dilemma makes the whole blogging thing even more challenging for me. That and I very much lack the creativity to think up adorable, thought-provoking, or even funny little bits of my day. Mostly because my days are none of those things. The most adorable thing that happens in my day is my brother making armpit farting noises and me then yelling at him, him continuing, and I then attempting to kill him with a fly swatter. Thought-provoking for me is staring at the sky, wondering why so many people must question why it is the color it is, and then starting to wonder it myself and feeling like a hypocrite. And funny, well, if you like to call being woken up at 5 AM by a starving, filled-bladder dog whose only way to communicate is through ear-deafening whines, then, I suppose, you could consider my days funny.
  But I don't. And therefore must find other things to talk about. Which is where the lack of creativity kicks in. So now I'll just continue my blogging.

G: Growing Up... share a few childhood photos and stories.

  I really don't have very many childhood memories that are pinging in my mind at this moment, so I'll try my best.

• I tried to keep a salamander for a pet. I had one of those little red barns with the animals that everybody had, and it had different stalls and what not. In every stall I put something different in: grass, mud, etc. I then tried to take it to my friend's sleepover by sticking it in the zipper pocket of my backpack and filling it with dirt and grass, and then leaving it in the car for several hours while I was at a play. When I got to my friend's house, my salamander was not in it's pocket. I never found out what happened to it.
• I used to love playing Spy. I had a walkie talkie set and some other cool spy stuff. Sadly, my sister was too un-smart to understand how to use the walkie talkies, making it less fun to play with. I was also obsessed with making forts with blankets and chairs and stuff. I am now an expert at it and share my skills with other kids. It makes me feel cool.
• I was obsessed with our chickens. 'Nough said.
• I thought my dog was the smartest most amazing dog in the world because once I got "lost" in our little garden of corn, and my dog came in. I told her to show me the way out, and she went out and I followed her. I was totally in awe of her from that day on.
• I had imaginary friends, but not the normal kind. Mine were a colony of mini mice.
• I always felt bad about putting stuffed animals in the toy box. I felt that they might be real, and I'd feel horrible if they weren't able to sleep on my bed. Therefore, my bed was always full of Beanie Babies and dolls and stuffed animals.
• My favorite toy was my doll, Baby Powder. Her head smells like baby powder. Hence the name. And now thinking about it, whenever I named dolls, they always had the title "Baby" in front of the name. Hmm.

  Okay, everything's getting boring now.

Cheers♥