There is absolutely nothing going on around here.
Oh, there is the usual adrenaline-rush-of-the-week for Dirtman. Last week the Olympics, this week the convention – and we all know how I love having a TV nattering at me non-stop.
So, other than that, and Heir 2’s never-ending quest for a full scholarship to a good math/computer college and to get through the last chapters of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by next Tuesday, there’s really nothing to write about.
I checked out what I was writing about last August – a dangerous journey to take considering what transpired – and there were only eight entries in August: four on the puppies and four on the mushrooms I found in the African Violet on the windowsill.
The puppies are all grown and the ones that remain are gnawing happily on a rawhide bone right now (how boring) and I checked the African Violets – nothing.
I haven’t even been cooking anything particularly exciting lately. Broiled pork chops – I’m not allowed to defile them with any seasoning whatsoever – one night, chili another, Sloppy Melvins another (we don’t call them “Sloppy Joes” for obvious reasons…). Pretty run-of-the-mill fare.
Found a coupon for Coffee Mate. That was exciting.
I’m reading the sequel to Chocolat. Got it out of the library.
Here's some random photos of guys without shirts carrying dishes.
Well, guess I'll be going.