Hi. I'm a painter, a writer and a mother of three teenage sons, one with a severe disability. This is a journal: riotously disorganized, full of art, food, children and everyday domestic events. Unless you are a friend or family member you may not be interested, but you are welcome to look. Artists who are parents may find some common ground here, as well as parents of children with special needs. For art only, see my site: nancybeamiller.blogspot.com
Friday, January 2
MUSTARD BUNS
That is what we call them. Henry goes on jags where he wants a lot of them. I mean that is all he wants. For days. And if you leave the kitchen and by bad fortune have forgotten to lock up the fridge (who me?), well, this is what happens. At least he is attempting to be self-sufficient. And it's better than the Jelly Bread jags.
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