Unexpected milestones. Gotta love ’em. You’re doing something you’ve never done, before, and suddenly, you realize… Hey, that was new. The moment your blog readers start talking to each other in the comments. The moment someone contacts you to ask if they can use one of your stories or posts or photos… The moment you
I had a Thanksgiving post scheduled to go, yesterday. I pulled it at the last minute because it didn’t really fit my current mood. I’m not sure that it would have fit anybody’s current mood. I had a pretty mellow Thanksgiving this year. Just two of us, and not at Waffle House, either. All said
It’s that time of year when corporations everywhere remind people how much stuff they desperately need, and small independent companies struggle to keep up. There are basically two kinds of sale going on, right now. On the one hand, you have your major, corporate sale, in which merchandise has been purchased (a year in advance!)
Something came up today that made me think about recipe boxes. You know those heirloom collections of handwritten recipes on index cards? I didn’t inherit my grandmother’s cooking skills, but I did wind up with her recipe boxes. And I’m fairly sure that at least a few of the recipes go back to my great
It’s been one of those days. What kind of day, you ask? Uhm… the kind of day where I broke my shed. Yeah. Apparently, you can do that. I’m accident prone, and I know it… but not so accident prone that anybody’s ever said Look at the shed, but don’t touch. Admittedly, it’s a very
You can’t actually make this stuff up. Well, I can’t, anyway. In the latest of a long string of assaults on people who are doing their job, we have… A 17 year old kid who was beaten so badly that he (or she, or they, the article isn’t clear) had to have surgery on his,
Ah, Hanes. Purveyors of economy underwear and socks in bulk… Well, it was bound to come to this. We have face masks by the box. Obviously, I bought a box. Black and white. I got black. The white ones seem just a little too much like wearing underpants on my face. There’s the part of
The first step in reopening schools is figuring out what the actual, mathematical 6-foot social distanced capacity of the school is. Add a margin for error–or for children pretending to be dinosaurs. Room by room. If everything runs perfectly, how many children can be in this room? What if it doesn’t go perfectly? Guess what?
I just did the most small-town thing ever. As I was flipping through my spam filter, looking for anything that was falsely flagged–well, you never know–I came across an invoice for “The Other Karen.” “The Other Karen” is a lady from the state next door, who happens to have an email address that is one
In one of the more misguided social-distancing efforts, tables have been removed from the break room, and chairs have been removed from the tables that are left. That would be all fine and good, but the truth of the matter is that it forces people to sit together (even when they wouldn’t have, before) and