One of the tragedies of living in a small house in January is the desperate, DESPERATE, D*E*S*P*E*R*A*T*E craving for privacy. And what has happened a couple of times this week is this head-t0-head between me and Elisheva… whoever is most unpleasant “wins” and gets to stay home all by herself. Sometimes she wins. Sometimes I win. Usually she wins; she can be far more unpleasant sometimes. Ted never wins, for what it’s worth. Anyway, in desperation because I have a ton of stuff I am supposed to be finishing up writing, some seeds I want to plant that I am not allowing myself to plant until I’m finished working , and a request from my mother to “bring dessert” just when the chocolate chips decided to mysteriously go missing… I have just yelled at every single member of my immediate and extended family and sent them all on to my mother’s house for supper so I can finish baking the brownies (found the chips, yay!) (under the sink; don’t ask) and get some !$%#^! writing done.