Sometimes I hate Blogger. I've been absent for the last three days due to Blogger's refusal to allow me to sign into my account. The good people that administrate Blogger normally do a fine job but for some unknown reason, of late, they've fallen on their collective butts.
To all the good people that have left comments on my recent post...I shall answer soon.
This morning I unlocked my shop to find one of my lights, when I hit the switch, refused to spark. So I will fix the darn critter as soon as I finish writing this worthless post. And, I've noticed the toilet in the shops head constantly feeds water to the sewer system...pennies down the drain. I just left word with my plumber. The shutoff valve refuses to budge. Ever snap one off....yeap, me too.
As soon as these minor chores are completed I'll be back to leave replies. I promise.
Sweet Wife has physical therapy three times a week. She came home last evening in tears. According to her, therapy hurts, which hurts me. It rips my soul to see any loved one in pain, much less her. I iced her down and cooed and soothed as best I could and then had her take to the couch and covered her in a blanket. I hate it. Her pain.
One can't shoot pain, nor beat it with one's fist. I'm powerless over it. I mentioned to her if possible I'd take her pain as mine own. She just smiled. The pain laughed.
Like Ireland in July we've a nice steady cool rain. No complaints here, we need it. I need to hire a small boy scout troop and have them clean my yard. I must have six tons of leaves in the yard and another four in the gutters. Pine cones up the ole wazoo.
I glanced at my deck this morning to find it covered in oak leaves too. There are not enough hours in the day.
Hey, silver is down. Jump.
Please excuse me it's time for me to make a living.