It has been weeks since my last submission. Sadly, it has been weeks since I last sat down to wait for my muse. She's probably going to disown me and move on if I don't make time for her soon. Next week will be better. I promise.

As always, I shall list off my accomplishments so I don't give my readers the impression that nothing happens for hobbits. The past couple of weeks have been busy here in my cozy hobbit hole.

My husband and I took advantage of the holiday weekend to visit with friends and family. A friend I haven't seen since my wedding met up with me in the D.C. area. We tried on some dresses, giggled like teenagers, and acted like we'd never been apart. You have to love friends that make you feel that way.

We also saw our Canadian son, a missionary who served in our area from the great white north. This has prompted me to giggle merrily when people complain it is too cold for spring as I declare, "What are you talking about? It's Canadian summer?" We also got to meet his wife and approve of her.

We also got to spend quality time with his family and mine. My mini-me (nephew) raced around the lobby of the restaurant while we waited to be seated. This just proved my brother's statement that all the unused energy in the universe got sent to that little ball of energy. I collected many hugs from the little ones even before I gave them large eggs filled with candy and little stuffed bunnies. More hugs followed.

My husband's mother and father welcomed us warmly and fed me as much food as they could before we left. His cousin and uncle provided their normal entertainment--loud declarations of facts they made up. I found the visiting pooches to be better company. The oldest of the greyhounds decided that the training I received from cats was good enough for him. He kept coming back so I could pet him even when other people were offering him attention. Never knock the training you receive from your pets. It can help you make friends.

Another weekend is almost on us. This happens to be Conference weekend, so I have a good reason to watch a lot of television.

That's high noon our time. BYU TV airs all four session: Saturday 12 and 4. Sunday 12 and 4. Check it out if you like.

It appears that the world sinks deeper into sadness every day. In the wake of the bombing at the Boston Marathon, our voices have been raised. I've seen posts inspired by everything from a love for running to anger that we don't weep for every tragedy that falls upon the earth.

We've become desensitised to violence. It surrounds us every day, whether the violence leaves bruises on hearts or bodies. I know both type of bruises well. I have loved and lost. I have been beaten with words and fists. Despite this, I still do not understand acts violence such as the ones that capture the attention of the media and all of us.

One would think that these terrible events would give us a wake up call, but we spend more time trying to convince others that our side is correct than trying to correct ourselves (and help those around us). We need to start at home. We need to look to making ourselves better, more compassionate people. Then we need to share what we have learned with our family then our friends. We have to be a little more willing to really listen to people.

Granted, this may not stop people from hurting each other, but I feel it would be a step in the right direction.

In other news, I have discovered a deep affection for project completion. Somehow, every pile of fabric that I turn into something beautiful or intriguing brings joy to the world. It also helps me get my head out of the news. Have a good day.

Sometimes, I neglect my duties as a teller of tales and a logger of blogposts. I could give a million excuses, but I'd find them all tedious and unsatisfying. Instead, I shall just throw some random words onto the web and dub myself forgiven.

My beloved and I took a trip this weekend for my re-birthday. We celebrated by attending a concert to welcome another album by the Pittsburgh artist Bill Deasy. The concert started off a little awkward with two classic songs playing over and over on a loop. Finally, someone switched over to what sounded like a hip-hop CD to keep us distracted while we waited. It turns out that the drummer had four gigs in D.C. that day, so he got caught in traffic on his way to Pittsburgh. The concert proved worth waiting for.

He also mentioned a mythical treat called and Oakmonter. Since the concert started at eight, we didn't get a chance to swing by the bakery and claim one for our very own. Needless to say, I spent yesterday created my own version of this deliciousness. My pants may not fit by the end of the week, but my taste buds love and adore me.

Saturday found us attending a musical at his parent's church. The dinner preceding the festivities included a pound of chicken stuffed with ham and cheese, rice, semi-soggy asparagus, and a tasty salad that I found delicious without dressing. I'd rather have dry salad than salad soup any day. I speak more of the food than the play because I found the play a little disappointing. I think the writer focused too much on their impressions of things than what is actually stated in The Bible.

Today, I got to share my previously mentioned treat with a friend of mine. She declared it bakery quality and said I had probably missed my calling. I still say I will mail people cookies for a reasonable fee plus shipping. Feel free to make an offer. I also got to be there in case my friend's daughter woke up from her nap and felt lonely. That's my kind of babysitting.

I alternated between reading a book that I downloaded for free and find somewhat sub par but not so terrible that I feel justified in deleting it and working on my own masterpiece. Which one? The one I have been neglecting for a while. Expect to see updates soon. You can even post some comments there about cake or the stories or how much you love hobbits. I think a little feedback and love is a small price to pay for free stories, don't you?