Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has been a busy old flat-tailed, buck-toothed rodent today, whipping up a pot of vegetable soup (now with less juice), washing one sink of dishes, completing two loads of laundry, filing assorted receipts/statements/stubs, reviewing some legal forms concerning her mother's estate, submitting the #1 son's FAFSA, and sending off a story on the very last day of the deadline for consideration in an anthology.
"Well done, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom!" says Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, since she has grown cautious with all that self-back-patting lately, due to muscle strain.
Now all she needs are two blog posts, one of which this lame account will account for.
She has a son waiting, you know, to watch a new cooking show with. It's our bonding time. Now that Worst Cooks in America is over, we have to find new common ground. Cutthroat Kitchen comes on too late for the little nipper, what with his 60-minute shower awaiting. And no, there is no truth to the rumor that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom was turned down for participation in Worst Cooks because she is worse than the Worst.
So sayeth and so decreeeth Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, ruler of Hillmomba, devoted mother, loving wife, and blogstress extraordinaire on this 1st day of March in the year 2015.