Morning. Do I sound intimidating? I've been watching a lot of Undercover Boss, and thank god my weekends mean a lot lately. Undercover Boss is where a CEO or president or whatever hoo-hah of a major company (7-Eleven, 1-800-Flowers, Waste Management, the Chicago Cubs) (not that I watched 109 of these this weekend or anything)… Continue reading Undercover June
I had ideas about what I was gonna write about today and then I sat down and ...blank. ...Oh! Mulch! Yes. I came home for lunch and there was poor Chris of Chris and Lilly, unloading m'mulch. With a big pitchfork, like he was the devil. The devil who made my yard so pretty it's… Continue reading Say “mulch” one more time
Last night, even though it was two hundred million thousand below zero, Ned and I went to a restaurant whose name bugs me: Pastabilities. Oh, stop. Pastabilities. However, it.is.delicious. You can't go wrong there. It is an impastability. I had The Traditional, which is penne pasta that cost more than a penne, with pink sauce… Continue reading Easter Par-Aid
I hope you had a good Easter weekend. Ned and I went to the cemetery. Before you go getting all judgy, Jesus spent Easter weekend in a cemetery, as well, so. Get off your high horse. Ned and I both like to go to old cemeteries. He seems to like to go obsess over how… Continue reading Also, Heinz.
Yesterday I had brunch with Dick Whitman's mom. It was very pleasant to meet her. Oh please. I LOVED HER!!! Wait. More exclamation points are needed! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew she'd be the bomb. Every story Dick Whitman ever told me about his mom, I would listen and then say, "I love your mom." I think… Continue reading JG + DWM = TLA
In case you were fretting and wringing your hands, I seem to be on the mend. I realized, being home all these days in a row, that I don't get to see a lot of pretty-things-the-light-does in my house, because I am off toiling all day. At least my iron gets to appreciate it. I… Continue reading June has first-world problems
Sorry to take so long to post today, and I like how I have to apologize for not POSTING first thing in the MORNING on a SUNDAY when people like Miss Doxie go a year between posts and I post every day, and I wonder if I could cram the word "post" into this sentence… Continue reading Post. Posty post post post.