Man, I got nothin'.
Other than waiting for the other baby shoe to drop, there's not much going on here. OK, that's not true. There were dinner guests on Friday, preceded - by a few short hours - by a sewage blockage and a visit from Speedy Rooter. Then there was shopping. And the installation of baby car seats, done in such a manner that, one hopes, the baby doesn't get Corinthian leather imprints on its forehead every time we make a sudden stop.
Oh, and there was the baby swing to assemble. And the party to drop by early Saturday evening. And the party we threw, immediately following the party we dropped in on. And the after-party clean-up. And the napping after the clean-up. And did I mention it's been snowing here since, it seems, April?
To put it another way, I'm wearing long underwear and still burned 20 or 30 logs in the fireplace today. To put it a third way, we're doing our bit for energy conservation by turning the thermostat up to "Orlando. In August. You Neocon Bastard."
Which brings us to the photo portion of tonight's lame blogging.
This is our Permanent Loaner Cat, Tidbit. He's as cute as he is stupid. Or the other way around.
Goldens love snow in the exact same way that I'm tired of it already.
If Melissa had known she was getting new jewelry in another couple hours, she would never have made this face at the annual Choliday Party.
Since I don't have anything else useful to say tonight, how about a True Story
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URL to article: https://pjmedia.com/vodkapundit/2005/12/19/mundane-tales