And almost too taaarred to write anything. It has been some week although most of it kind of swirled around in the background as I worked my you know what off. Walking down to the Oscar Tango tonight I expected a text message or two or three. On a regular Friday, I text my progress toward downtown to the GG and he responds (or not). I often think of a Friday a few years ago when I found myself barraged by a storm of text messages from The Commander and an obsessive text messager. Oh, not that it was an argument. If I remember accurately, The Comm had accidentally texted the obsessive text messager. Or maybe it was vice versa? Whatever. I was walking down Washington Street banging into trees and tripping over dogs, tricycles, and small children as I navigated that complicated thread of messages trying to turn it into a dull roar. Still, I miss getting texts from The Commander. Even texts like:

Yyyyyyyy

Plow Illinois

My mother determinedly tried to keep up with technology as long as she possibly could. I hope I’m up to that when I get to that age. (And that yyyyyyy text message was supposed to show up as a “block quote” but it isn’t exactly and I’m not sure why except that I’ve probably mangled the [very simple] html in some way that I cannot process tonight. I don’t give up easily but after an afternoon spent untangling crappy old skool javascript, I’m done for now.)

Tonight I was pleasantly surprised by a text from npJane. Are you OTing tonight? Yes, I am on my way down there and the GG is probably already there. I had been thinking about np earlier in the week. She came over one Sunday in January and that’s the last time I’d heard anything much from her. Which is okay! We are all busy and employed and that is always a good thing! But it’s always nice to get together and catch up on the latest powderpost beetle gossip and whatever. We stopped [sorta] short of any polly-tick type discussion tonight. I think. At least we didn’t get heavily into it but then I think a lot of us are sort of watching the 2016 presidential race roll out in a kind of horrified fascination. Gone are the days of Foster Friess joking about women using aspirin as birth control. And I had trouble googling that sad little chapter of history. Foster, uh, who was that guy? Fliess? Uh, no… I think that was Heidi… “Foster aspirin between legs” finally got me to where I needed to go. Waste of time? Yes. (Actually, as the GG pointed out, women were holding an aspirin tablet tightly between their KNEES. Okay, but the point is that the incorrect google search I used worked and Foster Friess hasn’t been heard of since, as far as I know. Good riddance.)

Home. Come on in and through the house. What about my shoes? They’re muddy. No they’re not. Come on outside the back door. Happy birthday to the GG. It is not his birthday for more than a month and I was gonna buy him some of these chairs. He apparently couldn’t wait. Now I will have to think of something else… Or maybe buy a few more of these. But I was gonna surprise him and that won’t be much of a surprise. Since we have both had our eye on these chairs at Downtown Home & Garden for a while now, it wouldn’t have been a surprise in that oh you *really* shouldn’t have way. These chairs were in our future.

I am babbling. Kerflop. –KW.

This entry was posted on Friday, March 18th, 2016 at 8:53 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.