Went online and bought a lead testing kit for $70. It arrived. What a scam. What showed up was 50 ml of Sodium sulfide. Wretched smelling substance. A stink bomb in a bottle really. Plus a few Q-tips. I’m sure it wouldn’t have cost the company no more than five cents.
I called my brother the chemist who said it was basically useless for testing toys because most toys that have been painted are also coated in a varish and this substance will not penetrate the varnish. I feel ripped off because the site said it is good for testing toys.
I’m just so sick of all this toxic shit from China coming in to our country. There’s a new poison every day… what are we to do?
“Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting a bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.”
We are moving in two weeks. So much to do.
My soap has almost cured. I have made about 10 varieties. Not sure if I will be doing the arts and craft show circuit or not. Might try selling some on Etsy. They are LOVELY!
This is honey almond swirl.
Right now I am working on:
- a book proposal on parenthood for creative types
- my mother-in-law’s memoir
- brainstorming for book proposal on mommy introverts (Got a great response from my Confessions of a Mommy Introvert in Today’s Parent) I’m really excited about this, but I think this will have to be put on hold for a while
IN between those projects, I am doing freelance, raising kids, selling our house, making soap, running.
We just bought a house in St. Thomas. Pictures to follow in upcoming days.
A new passion of mine (and Emily’s).
These were found at Seacliffe Beach in Leamington last Sunday.
Before children I wrote poetry. I also smoked like a fiend when I wrote. Gave up smoking. Gave up poetry. I miss it – the poetry that is.
I heard a news story a while back about the swans in Stratford, Ontario… how baby cygnets were dying from the white bread people were feeding them. They became dependent on it and it was not nutritious enough to sustain them. I wrote this poem after hearing the story:
Death by Wonderbread
(We meant well)
By Christina Friedrichsen
Take this bread.
This token of our love.
With your young
And be damned.
too stale for sandwiches.
hot dog buns
for swan stomachs.
like potato chips
to a baby.
We want you back
Swans in Stratford
dead from Wonderbread.