About thirty minutes ago, I opened my freezer and checked the icemaker. There were some ice cubes in the back of the freezer, just outside the bin that catches all of the ice it makes. I reached back to grab the ice cubes to pull them forward where they should be, and I don’t know what I touched but the top of my middle finger brushed against something that felt like it burned me. It might have been something so cold that it was like a burn, but now I have a weird white patch on top of my finger that stings. It might be a blister, because it’s squishy too. So damn weird. And ouch.
Getting two numbers on one line in Powerball should win you something. Harrumph.
I wake up in the wee hours because of insomnia most nights. For the past several nights, I’ve been hearing a man coughing in the street for a few hours every night, from about 1 to 4 a.m. It’s a loud, theatrical cough, audible up and down the street. I can’t tell exactly where it’s coming from, but suspect some new neighbors from hell a few houses down. Maybe the man sleeps in the front yard to guard his flotilla of motorcycles, inoperable limos, and junk-hauling van and trailer.
I have done this before. Turns out there is actually a heating element under the ice maker that melts the ice enough for the rotating arm to scoop them out into the ice bin. It sucks learning it the hard way though.
Today was nuisance tree day, the fall day each year when we cut down all the small trees and vines that have sprouted up along our various fence lines. I use the tool we call the Cindy (loppers) and my gf paints the little stumps with an herbicide. The trees go into the bed of the vehicle we call The Kitty (Arctic Cat) for transport to our current burn pile.
Along one section she told me to just cut all “those vines” and leave them while she did another task. I later found out that she had me cutting down poison ivy! She tends to get it really bad following exposure, so she avoided it. She believes that I am immune (no idea where she came up with that). I think I’ll shower now.
I hope that when you burn that on the burn pit that you
Are both fully covered (long pants, long sleeves, gloves, masks, bandanas & goggles)
and that you spend the time that it is burning indoors, with the windows and doors closed/locked.
That Truly Hate Your Neighbors.
( If you unplug the CAT6 out of your landline, it won’t ring )
Um, the twitterers are shoeing a clip of Heather McDonald passing out on stage after “mocking” Jesus.
Actually, if Jesus caused that, its Kindof humorous.
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so we’re going to have to see that pink $%^& everywhere.
My own boob-a-versary is Tuesday. 6 years ago, I found out that the biopsy I almost didn’t have because the doctors thought that spot on my mammogram that was probably benign, wasn’t.
Me: In a huge hurry, trying to leave a Kwik Trip as fast as I can.
The store: Full of card tables with customers coloring in leaf shapes (with nothing but pink highlighters), and employees taping them up all over. I’m stumbling past these obstacles trying to get out.
Perky clerk: “But wait! Don’t you want to color a leaf and give five dollars to breast cancer?”
Me: “Hell, no, I HATE breast cancer!”
My late first wife battled BC for 25 years before her final defeat. Neither she nor I ever held the pinkmail grifters in anything but utter contempt. If they ever did any good it was by accident.