I have pain.
I spent several hours over the past two days cutting back the climbing rose arch that covers the front of our house. It was #7-C on The List, so it felt good to get it done. A real sense of accomplishment comes with reducing 30 ft. of diseased and bug-ridden plant life to two bins of wanna-be compost.
But now, the pain. (more…)
It’s the saving grace of many a childhood game.
It’s the secret wish of every man.
It’s the Do Over.
Tell me you’ve never wished for it. The chance to go back and take the shot, make the investment, show the self-discipline, learn the skill, do the bold and dangerous thing, the “What if?” (more…)
I am not fond of the Christmas clock.
Can I just say that right now, and kinda get it out there in the open? I love Christmas, and I have no problem with clocks as a general rule, but the combination is simply not to be borne.
It’s just a little clock, about eight inches high, standard Christmas motif. Every hour, on the hour, it plays a Christmas carol.
How sweet.
Not really, no. (more…)
So let me get this straight.
You kill a tree, or hire someone to do it for you.
You drag said dead tree into your house, rearranging the furniture so as to give it a place of prominence. You then proceed to cover it with lights, pieces of colored glass and tin, and bits and bobs of food and fluff.
And why is this, exactly? (more…)
…of mice and men, gang aft agley.
Which is Scottish for, “get seriously fouled up.”
This is a post about failure. (more…)
This is sucking up the entire holiday season.
I knew it would happen, so I shouldn’t complain—but where’s the fun in that?
Cathy and Carissa have made it through the rehearsal time, and Miracle on 34th Street has officially opened. I am the proud husband of Pedestrian #1, and proud father of an elf.
Pardon me, not just any elf…Elf J.
Whatever that means. (more…)
Note: This is, as you can read from the title, part three in a series. If you’re just joining us, may I suggest that you go back and read parts one and two?
The unendurable teaches you endurance—or leaves you broken and weeping by the side of the road.
So, I forgot to replace the tubes on the trailer. (more…)
When you assume…
I have mentioned before that I’m not what you, or anyone you know, would call “handy.” One of the problems that comes with being less than fully “ept” is that one tends to trust any man with coveralls or a tool belt to automatically know what he is doing. I know I shouldn’t oughta, but I do. Last week I paid an annoying price and learned some valuable lessons. (more…)
Here we go again….
My daughter is a drama queen…and I mean that in the nicest sense of the word. (more…)
The buck stops here.
I didn’t make that up, just so you know. When I was a kid, I figured that phrase had to do with making money. I thought, “Woohoo! That’s right—let the buck stop right here, Baby! In fact, make it lots and lots of bucks!”
I have since learned that the phrase has an entirely different—and less pleasant—meaning. (more…)