Brother leaves tomorrow. The stress of it all is compounding onto mom. I will miss him, though he claims to be able to contact us whenever he wants to from one of four different phones, so we will see. So odd to think that he will be 20 on Saturday but that he’s leaving in the name of his ‘country’ before then. As a teenager, essentially. 

On Sunday I peered into the freezer to find a bag of frozen ‘Grands’ cinnamon rolls. Already pre-baked and iced, just waiting to be popped into the oven before consumption. In cases such as these, all I can really do is say, are you kidding me? We went from slaving away for hours to make the dough, filling and icing for cinnamon rolls, to the kind that you roll out of a can but still must ice, to pre-made/pre-baked, frozen versions of the original. There is something very wrong with things like that in this world, and I don’t like it, not one little bit. So my response? I started my homemade whiskey bread pudding this afternoon, which is now soaking overnight in the good-ole-fashioned deliciousness that will be finished tomorrow. 

I must reiterate here how very much I dislike the idea behind towing. What I dislike more, though, is the tow man telling the people whose car he just towed that if they would have parked across the street there wouldn’t have been a problem. Thanks buddy, thanks a lot for the advice.