There's nothing like this blank page looking at me to make me forget anything interesting I had to say.
The boys went bowling today. Their league started last week. That means HH has started working again on Saturdays. I tell him that is very suspicious. He leaves work early and meets us at the bowling alley. I have been doing the shopping during that time, rather than watching and eating fries and inhaling second-hand smoke. I'm sure I will fall back into my routine in a few weeks.
I am proud to report that I got a full 7 hours sleep last night. A full 7 hours, if that doesn't count the 5 minutes I woke up every hour to cough out some lung snot. I've only done one load of laundry today, and one last night. I am severely lacking in laundry motivation. I have three bills to pay. And work from work. But instead, I sent a juicy email to Mabel. Nobody can dish the gossip like Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. Y'all thank the Gummi Mary she is discreet.
Coming home from the store, I saw our neighbor mowing his field. The field that HH set on fire a couple of July Fourth's ago. We used to be pretty good friends with this neighbor. The pyromania episode had nothing to do with the "used to" part, nor did the night his daughter and her friends egged and biscuited our garage, or the time the same daughter caught the woods on fire, nearly incinerating our cedar Mansion. No, we have just grown apart. Funny. Back in 1991, we used to party like it was 1999. That was before we erected the Mansion next door. I think that saying, "Good fences make good neighbors" is false advertising. We still have a fence.
No inspiration has flown into my brain, so I am going to cut this session short. I think I'm entitled, what with the epic proportions of yesterday's post.
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4 comments:
Go on, share the email with your loyal audience :-)
I've never bowled, so I've always wondered how the ball leaves your fingers, without taking the fingers with them.
Lantern,
Laws, NO! "A lady reveals nothing."
I dare you to name that quote.
The bowling ball has a hole for your thumb, and two for your naughty finger and ring finger. The holes are not skin-tight. They have to be loose. Your fingers and thumb form a 'C' if you're left-handed. A dyslexic 'C' if you're right-handed. When you swing your arm, you let go of the ball. Don't hold it too long, or it will bounce down the lane. And that is kind of frowned upon, like a MAJOR bowling faux pas. This paragraph is why I am not a bowling instructor.
"A League Of Their Own" perhaps.
Not that you'd be concerned about anything revealing while wearing the Royal Crown...
"The key to a woman's heart is an unexpected gift at an unexpected time."
Lantern,
Yes, that's right. "A League of Their Own". There's no crying in baseball, you know.
When I wear the Royal Crown of Hillmomba, I am very careful to deport myself in a manner fitting for a leader of the people. Now, if I was wearing the Coors Light Can headwear, I can not guarantee that I would be concerned one whit about revealing anything.
I am not familiar with your quote. The key to my heart is probably in a styrofoam cup full of odds and ends that HH keeps in a little-used kitchen cabinet.
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