These days, it's all Dinner Diaries, all the time, except when it's home repair, or hanging around with the kids, or doing laundry . . .


There are two gaping holes in the living room ceiling, meaning that we had to move all furniture, tchotchkes, doo-dads and kid art into other rooms so repair work can commence. Needless to say, the house is a disaster. Meanwhile, interviews for my book start this week, so we have to make sure there's no loud banging going on while I'm on the phone. Finally, the kids got out of school last Thursday.

It's true I told Andy I want to redecorate the living room, and while I really appreciate his support, I thought it was going a little far when he angled the air conditioners just a little toward the inside of the house so they'd leak, thereby causing an indoor rain storm, requiring the hazmat-ish men to come and carve up our ceiling. I'm pretty sure I could have gotten a new couch and painted the walls even without this loving show of solidarity, although I admit that now I feel more wholly justified in redoing the room.

Thanks, hon. (Of course he's kicking himself, but we've all been there in one way or another. I recently did this, so I'm not one to talk.)