Friday, March 17, 2006

Church Lady

Crazy Train (of thought)

I hate those commercials with people whining about how they need help to buy food or pay for medications. I know they are actors, but I still want to scream “Did you ever think about saving a little money!”

I disagree with the political position of the Dixie Chicks, but I love their music. They are hot, too. I’ll buy the new CD when it comes out next week.

Barry Bonds, we can’t talk just about baseball when you have bastardized the game with your beloved ‘roids. I hope your testicles shrink.

I saw Darwin at work this morning. There was an idiot changing a tire, parked on a bridge in the middle of the only lane that feeds into the on-ramp of the busiest Interstate highway in GA. Cars were backed up for a mile. If he’s not hit by a car first, somebody late for work is going to shoot him.

Marital Bliss

Two nights of hell = two nights without Jill under the covers with me. I’m glad she is having fun at Disney, but I miss my sweeeeeeeeettttt badonkadonk sleeping next to me. This is the first time in 15 months we have not spent the night together. For some couples, love fades. For us, it grows everyday. For some couples, a little time apart is a savored respite. For us, it is torture. I can’t wait for her to get home tomorrow.


I’m taking Meagan and one of her girlfriends into the big city of Atlanta tonight for dinner and an overnight in a sweet hotel. They are excited about us having dinner in one of those places where celebrity sightings are common. Last night Meagan paraded around the house in several different dresses, wanting to know which looked best with her Prada shoes, which twirled best when she turned, which flattered he legs the most. I love it when my girl wants my opinion on something, when she doesn’t think I’m a blooming idiot.

Today’s Rant

I kept telling the guy I was not getting a fence installed, and he kept insisting that I was. He only needed to mark where the underground utilities were, he said, and he would be gone. I begged him to check his paperwork, and I had to trust that he would because I was late leaving for an appointment and couldn’t wait for him to figure out that he was at the wrong address. A few hours later, when I returned home, my yard was painted in lovely shades of fluorescent yellow, orange and red paint. My neighbor, who is getting a fence installed, was outside admiring it. To look on the bright side, at least the fence poles were delivered to the right address. However, they were the wrong ones.

Book Report

Yes, it’s true, authors live for praise. That’s why we, at least I, Google our names once in a while to find reviews or mentions in online content. Just yesterday I found an article in the Reporter-Times, a little newspaper from Martinsville, Indiana (population – 11,698), that describes a woman giving a reading from my book “Why I Love Grandma” to a book club at the local library. I pictured a little old church lady, wrapped in a hand-knitted shawl for warmth, reading out loud and wiping tears from her eyes as she recalled her own grandmother or grandchildren after each page or photograph. In my imagination she looked like Olympia Dukakis.

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