As we’re edging ever closer to the upcoming family get-togethers, the to-do lists are growing accordingly. While I’ve failed miserably at finding a wagon wheel that was apparently critical for the décor, I’ve made some progress in my concept for the tablescapes. You read that right; I said tablescapes, which is solid proof that I’m really a gay man trapped in a woman’s body. Add to that evidence the George Michael CD’s, and it’s an iron-clad case. Guilty as charged.Be that as it may, I’m not sure how that squares with an important epiphany I had on Saturday while G was watching some old Dirty Harry movie: Clint Eastwood was HOT in his prime. Seriously hot, people. If Young Clint showed up on my doorstep tomorrow, I can’t promise that I wouldn’t hook up with him while G sat on the bed crying. Hey, it was Billy Joel who said that honesty is such a lonely word!
Otto VonCrapp (my new name for my car) seems to be doing pretty well at the moment thanks to the mad man-skills of G and T, who have replaced my rear brakes. I’m not sure what else they did to Otto, but he’s really running well. Knock wood, throw salt over your shoulder, and clutch the pearls, please.
On the topic of man-skills, the erection of the fence is going very well, thanks to hours in the yard, power tools, lots of colorful language, and enough wood and concrete to encase a pod of killer whales. At least one side, if not two, will be complete in time for the next weekend update. It would have been done today, but we had plans this afternoon.
That’s right…today G & I rolled to the adoption kennel in Acworth to help bathe a new batch of hounds who’ve just retired from racing. It’s a beautiful group of hounds, and we had a ‘crack squad’ of bathers today, rolling through those baths in no time. Seriously, as sweet and patient as these guys and gals were, I doubt they’ll last long at the kennel.
I have one happy tid-bit to wrap up the weekend update. You’ll be pleased to know that Cal, the manorexic child discussed in the post below, actually ate something at my house on Saturday night. One grilled chicken tender wrapped in an X-Treme Fiber tortilla, to be exact. I wish he’d have eaten more chicken, but glad he showed restraint on those tortillas. More than one of those and your colon is guaranteed to spew like Vesuvius. I’ll leave you with that happy thought.
Have a great week!
5 comments:
Maria, that 'crack squad' bit, that was just for you, but you knew that, didn't you?
Addie
Long ago, my mom was headed to Mexico. She had some friends that were huge Clint Eastwood fans. They joked and said that if she saw him to be sure and get his autograph. Guess what? She saw him. She's not the type to beg for an autograph, but she couldn't pass this by so she did. Well, her friends didn't believe her. They didn't believe it was the real thing :-).
Jen
Gee, Lori to see a man pointing a gun at me first thing in the morning is hard on the ole' heart. Should I bring my gun and rope when I come? ;*)
Jen, that's a great story! I've been to Carmel, CA where Clint was mayor years ago, but no sightings for me. At least your Mom has a cool story to tell!
Mom, no need to bring anything Mrs. Plum might use to off Colonel Mustard in the conservatory. :-)
Addie
You know, when you posted that you were in charge of acquiring a wagon wheel I wondered where in the heck you were going to find one. Of course you realize that the first time you go into a flea market after the big event, you'll find one.
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