One year ago today: May 22, 2022, struggling with the concept.
Five years ago today: May 22, 2018, 8,562,000 inches.
Nine years ago today: May 22, 2014, 2nd highest in math, that is.
Random years ago today: May 22, 2008, a wasteland of nothingness.
Aha, this library computer is de-tuned, but I hacked into something called compatibility mode. Do I have the blog format? If this looks familiar, we got lucky. But it’s nearing closing time. I’ll just tell you about this morning. I said how last evening I could have been the Missoula Murderer and them dogs would sleep through it. She disagrees, of course. I get up in the morning and there is no Carnation. Is this my destiny, I say to myself. First I find a 4” pile of bills, two notices that my magazine subscriptions have run out, the turtle isn’t fed, and now no Carnation.
So I open the cupboard to find anything that might work. And what do I get? Right there in front of my nose, a sign saying “Numb Nuts”. Hmmm. The Reb informs me later it is a jar of peanut butter. Sure. All I’m saying is this is the thanks I get. Sigh. I sat down and had a telepathic conversation with JeePee, the only nearby personality that truly understands me.
The lady who answered my ad that does not play guitar has my personal e-mail address. She disappeared after the no-go, but when he saw from my ad(?) that I am still auditioning, she is barraging me with questions. I'm playing long, but she looks and acts the grandmother and her music conveys the same message.
Pocahontas trading post.
Remember to use BACK ARROW to return to blog.
The rest of the day went about as well. I went shopping forgetting Tennessee is 20% more expensive, but I survived. This time I brought along 62 K-cups of coffee, see, I learned my lesson. I made a pot of rice, turned by back for a bit and found it in the doggie dishes. That’s how I know I make it right. So I decided to bake banana bread. From a gluten-free mix, with my extras. That includes the craisins, a full stick of butter, a hint of nutmeg, and a drop of vanilla extract.
She wound up giving Sammy a real hair-cut. Almost military. Maybe I’ll get him to stay still long enough [for a picture]. All else is the routine by now, I had JeePee out in the playground. He loves it in the spring when the grass grows up through the wire. Anybody who says turtles don’t play, have them bet me $20. I hit the perfect time of year in Nashville again. The Reb is off to California just past midnight.
