Aw, he cleans up nice.
Well, guess who is 62?
Happy happy birthday to the Thriller today. We have a busy day planned, and I will cook dinner for him tonight (he prefers my cooking to restaurant food — imagine that) before he watches the White Sox beat up on the Tribe. Or at least, that’s almost my birthday wish for him. Heh heh.
He rarely gets to watch a White Sox game on TV, of course, because of the MLB broadcast market around here. So it’s a treat when he gets to see them live. But he hopes not to see last night’s beatdown on his birthday. Me? Not so much.
He’s called me “Dirty Rotten Tribe Fan” for going on 17 years; why stop now?
Today will be fun for different reasons as well, as our cousin John (the son of our mother’s sister) from Illinois will be passing through town, and is stopping at the house for a visit on his way east. Mavis and I are looking forward to catching up; we sure had some laffs as kids at Grandma’s house.
Happy Wednesday — get over that hump and look forward to the weekend, fiends.
It’s been one of those 24-hour periods, when I question why such horrible things happen to good people.
In the last day, I’ve been party to three terrible health issues involving people I love: one with a terrible seizure, a friend going through a cancer scare and having to wait forever for test results, and just this morning, my own son being hurt on the job. It’s enough to make you want to slap somebody.
And all this time, murderers, child molesters and rapists sit in prisons, healthy as horses. Not fair.
I don’t mean to be snarky this morning, as many murderers, child molesters and rapists are God’s children too, and probably have people who love them. But the inequity of it just infuriates me sometimes.
Many worries trouble my reptilian mind this morning, fiends. I hope things improve as the day wears on.
And speaking of today — much to do before the Js arrive. (Hannah is waiting for word on which ER Seamus will be taken to; looks like it might be a broken ankle.)
Updates as I get them — thanks for reading my rather whiny ramblings this day.
Do you like comparative lists? If so, then do not go here.
Do you like US trivia? Then do not go here.
One of my favorite sites, but if you’re pressed for time…yeah.
There, that should give you enough to make you finally take notice that your coffee has gone cold, and you’re an hour late for church or for getting done what you wanted to tackle before the morning got away from you.
Happy Sumday — as Mavis pointed out on Facebook last night, only a few more short weeks until football season! Is there hope for the hapless Browns this year? We shall see.
Stream-of-consciousness list. Ready, steady, go.
- I have never played “Candy Crush,” which apparently is all the rage right now. I’m afraid to; I don’t need another habit to break.
- I have, however, spent a few sleepless hours blowing through the levels on “Angry Birds.” I own them pigs.
- I’m seriously considering getting out of the edu-politics game. So difficult to mobilize the people, it’s getting more frustrating by the day. Maybe it’s because of all the other crap on my reptilian brain lately. Sometimes, something’s got to give up some room.
- I confess: I procrastinate. A lot.
- I’ve been feeling guilty lately about not exercising. Not guilty enough to actually get out and exercise, but…
- I think Channing Tatum is decidedly unhandsome.
- Sometimes I think so much, I think my thinker will short out. (Hence the 3:00 wake-up time this morning.)
- Yep — I tend to overthink many things.
What about you? What’s bugging you right now? Doctor Fink is in.
Well, ya lives and ya learns.
Wood quality matters, doesn’t it. The sideboard — an older piece of furniture, handed down to us — obviously had some better grain to it. It was relatively easy to strip and re-stain (although I’m bummed I didn’t get the color match just right…oh well, it’s still pretty, and I usually put a table runner on it anyway), while the coffee table, oy…it was terrible, and still is. We bought it at one of those furniture freight places — the kind that has the commercials where the used-car-salesman-type guy screams at you like you’re hard of hearing. I’m thinking it’s *not* top quality.
Needs at least another coat. Kinda looks like patchworked plywood under there, too, or worse, some kind of particle board. Still — it was my fault, and I needed to fix the problem. At least the stain color was a perfect match. I’m really reticent to strip and sand it off and start over; I’m just not sure it’s important enough to me to do it, when the grandsons use it a lot for their toys, games, video controllers, and occasionally, as a dinner or snack table. Meh. I think it’ll be OK.
Now, on to bigger and better things. Not sure what those will be, but the Thriller just rattled off some errands that need run, so that gives me another excuse to not go into the school house today. *fist pull*
Happy Finkday to y’all! Here comes the weekend for all my private sector fiends. And for the pensioners — and you know who you are — it’s just another day in Paradise.