ungerfunging vinter
The weather outside has turned really nasty, & quite abruptly from Thanksgiving day. Indeed, there is a winter snow advisory this morning. 2 more weeks to see Doc Larocque; I hope the weather is nicer then. The 10-day forecast has it warming back up to around 40 next week, but we see her on the 6th, & it could become worse in the meantime.
Yesterday, I cracked the garden hose trying to pick it up; I should've done that earlier. I did that in the evening; the day leading up to it was fairly typical, for a day Trish had off, & the day after Turkey Day. Mostly, she just slept in; ate her cereal (nummy treats!); then we lounged around until lunchtime. After a ridiculous sermon by the preacher man -- the first 5 books of the Bible were dictated to Moses; get real! -- we did some grocery shopping at Albertson's, with Trish's buckadingdongs. Hope called around 3:00 -- Hope springs eternal -- now she's converting to Catholicism. Around 5:00 I cooked a huge pot of sketti. Trish helped by chopping up the green pepper & onion, which I sauteed before simmering them in the sauce. After her shower, we watched T2 on VHS; Battlestar Galactica wasn't on last nite. I fell almost immediately into a deep sleep when we went to bed, although I did have to readjust Toastie Bear in the middle of the night, when I awakened to the Doors tribute album on my little Rectilinears, which need a new midrange, when I can afford it. The drivers in there now are a couple cheapies from Radio Shaft.
Today, when Trish is at work, I have to read the current issue of ScienceNews.org, as well as Skiffy Weekly.
I'm still evolving ideas for my latest project aimed at Platinum Studios; a really unique approach to time-travel.
That's the problem with my writing. It's too unique. If it functioned on the level of a cliche, I could be the next Invisible Hog. He's pretty much into cliches, himself, as he knows nothing of real science & only knows how to hit one chord.
The other thing I'm doing today is playing my keyboard. I'm learning Light My Fire & need to work out all the chords.
Yesterday, I cracked the garden hose trying to pick it up; I should've done that earlier. I did that in the evening; the day leading up to it was fairly typical, for a day Trish had off, & the day after Turkey Day. Mostly, she just slept in; ate her cereal (nummy treats!); then we lounged around until lunchtime. After a ridiculous sermon by the preacher man -- the first 5 books of the Bible were dictated to Moses; get real! -- we did some grocery shopping at Albertson's, with Trish's buckadingdongs. Hope called around 3:00 -- Hope springs eternal -- now she's converting to Catholicism. Around 5:00 I cooked a huge pot of sketti. Trish helped by chopping up the green pepper & onion, which I sauteed before simmering them in the sauce. After her shower, we watched T2 on VHS; Battlestar Galactica wasn't on last nite. I fell almost immediately into a deep sleep when we went to bed, although I did have to readjust Toastie Bear in the middle of the night, when I awakened to the Doors tribute album on my little Rectilinears, which need a new midrange, when I can afford it. The drivers in there now are a couple cheapies from Radio Shaft.
Today, when Trish is at work, I have to read the current issue of ScienceNews.org, as well as Skiffy Weekly.
I'm still evolving ideas for my latest project aimed at Platinum Studios; a really unique approach to time-travel.
That's the problem with my writing. It's too unique. If it functioned on the level of a cliche, I could be the next Invisible Hog. He's pretty much into cliches, himself, as he knows nothing of real science & only knows how to hit one chord.
The other thing I'm doing today is playing my keyboard. I'm learning Light My Fire & need to work out all the chords.
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