Howdy Y’all! Laundry and cee-mint pond stuff got done. Much RDOS sloth then ensued. Sup got fixed and et also. That sums up the day in swampland. Now I shall see whatup on teh intartoobz.
Well, I’m going to have to go for an MRI (insurance insists on the cheaper x-ray first) and back to the podiatrist in a couple of weeks.
Yeah, like my five years retired sister, I probably have bought my last bra. 
My rule of thumb is if I’m getting in the car, both a bra and pants that aren’t meemaw pants (basically pajamas with pockets), I’m wearing proper, zip up ones or a dress of some sort.
They would likely give you a pass.
I learned on an IBM Selectric II in class, with an old Underwood manual at home. Ten key is a breeze considering the data entry I’ve done over the years.
Yay!
Sis and I had about an hour between the x-ray and the podiatrist appointment, so we lunched at a Filipino restaurant / bakery. We went with lunch portions of chicharon bulaklak, chicken curry, and bulalo soup. It was wonderful. We figure we’ll be around the medical center area in the future and we want to try their buffet.
This was the first time with the podiatrist here. She seemed knowledgeable, but her bedside manor sucked. Thursday is my PCP and the dermatologist. Gettin’ old ain’t for wimps.
Fill your bathtub just in case, terlits take more water than one would expect.
I used to be heavily involved in critter rescue. It took a very long time before I finally figured out that I couldn’t save the world no matter how hard or long I worked.
All you can do is all you can do. You are a good person for wanting to be able to do more, but everyone has limits.
Thank you for the suggestion. I bought him some calamine lotion and when he saw the dermatologist yesterday (skin cancer seems to be gone for the time being), his doctor of course saw it and prescribed steroids for it. I’ll try to remember if he gets back out in it again next year because of course he will.
I do know this, they were horrible for the cactus wrens back in AZ and were one of the few birds you could kill any time. I still can’t bring myself to hate them, they are just birds and they didn’t ask to be brought here.
But…they sure do keep George entertained! Both of us love watching them watch the birds 
I used to be great with the top row and then I got a keyboard with the ten-key pad and never looked back.
It was made very clear to me that my folks didn’t have money for college (despite paying for two of my sisters and three of their kids - not that I’m bitter or anything) so I planned to work while I was attending. Learning to type was one of the best decisions I ever made, it helped my submit acceptable reports and I could make a few bucks off my keyboard challenged classmates.
It does sound like you need some! Congrats for surviving you lent and paschal.
So not much got done today. The onions and milkweed are in the ground now but I haven’t mulched yet. The milkweed was still pretty small and I want to be able to see how its doing for the next couple of days before I cover it up.
Mostly my day has been filled with stitching, smoking and watching the cats and birds and butterflies. AZ springs were pretty, but so short. Spring here isn’t rushed, I get time to savor each change and it is so beautiful.
I napped. I dreamed there was a flood at my house, the Galactic Empire was attacking, and I was testing a starship full of cartoon penguins for plague so they could escape. Yesterday I dreamed I was drinking a Manhattan. Today I am. FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS, PEOPLE! Dinner tonight is chicken burritos.
Yeah.
And there was great rejoicing.
Having seen The Thing, she’s justified.
I will not buy this record, it is scratched.
I always toss 'em a couple of bucks, because even if they buy booze and drugs with it, so was I.
Well, I have to wash myself post work, so I’m filling a bucket. But I can always wizz in the bushes if it comes down to it. 
Have you considered moving to New York? The bra is optional there, as is the shirt.
I did my taxes! And I’m getting about $600 back. First time I haven’t owed NY in a while.
My high school required typing for both girls and boys by tenth grade (this was in a rather rural Oregon town in the mid-80s). My typing class did include one eleventh-grader, but he’d just moved into that school district, so had to catch up on that to have the credit he’d need to graduate from that school.
Whine, whine, whine. Moan, moan, moan.
Oh, wait - I learned to touch-type by paying Wake Tech, the local community college $40 for a semester of typing lessons.
Please stand by for your regulatory scheduled gender related pissing qnd moaning.
I (female) have always wanted to be able to “write” my name in the snow.
Up, caffeinated, and sheveled. Off to heave. It’s currently 66 degrees Ferret Height(18.889 Centipedes).
Morning, mumpers! It’s currently 14c/57f with a predicted high of 16c/61f and cloudy. Weather app says “This fucking weather is boring. Let’'s mould our genitalia out of Play-Doh and show the fucking neighbours.” Hmm…maybe not, right?
I like to think that my donations to charities kind of cover that, I’m doing what I can to help people but without knowing how to specifically help someone, a regular donation to charity seems the best option.
My mum said I should learn to type so after I left school, I did a year-long Personal Assistant’s Diploma which included typing and shorthand. She said whatever I did in the future, those skills would always be there if I needed a job in a hurry. She wasn’t wrong!
Yesterday was not a very exciting day as far as irk was concerned. I logged out later than I should have done, then watched a bit of the evening news before heading off to the kitchen to concoct dinner. We’ve started season five of “You” and have already got various plot twists worked out so we’re doing pretty well. I was in bed not long after 10pm and up reasonably early this morning after both Blossom and Cherry stomped over the bed to let me know it was past time for breakfast.
Everyone’s been fed and watered, the litter trays are clean, and the cats have gone back to their favourite hobby of snoozing. I’ve got some training videos to watch and some other bits to do before I log off and make campus food for the next couple of days. We’ve been told we’re moving to our new office next Thursday so there will be some packing to do.
Good Mornin’ Y’all! Up and caffeinatin’. YAWN ‘Tis 59 Amurrkin out and clear with a predicted high of 86 and sunny. We shall procure provisions this mornin’. Then we shall be RDOS sloths as is our wont until around four p.m. when we will go to Sonny’s for geezer sup. There’s a special on St. Louis style ribs and we haven’t been there in a while. MOOOOOOM try not to be jealous! We watched Bohemian Rhapsody on Netflix Moanday night. It was a very well done and enjoyable movie. I highly recommend.
Leaper it’s good to want to help others, but we can’t save everyone. You do what you feel you can and that is enough. OYKW and I have our causes and they are good ones that do good for others.
Nuts conga rats on gettin’ THE THING done!
VanGo yay for finished taxes and a refund!
JtC hope hubs is over poison ivy soonest.
I learned to type in the tenth grade. For reasons unknown, one took that class in tenth grade in high school in Ye Olde Hometowne.
Now I need more caffeine and to feed rumbly tummy. Then I suppose I must purtify and don acceptable attire for bein’ amongst the great unwashed.
Happy Hump Day Y’all!
Quit being all smug and stuff! I don’t even have any more Sonny’s sweet sauce - we used the last of it some months back. Sweet Baby Ray’s is an OK substitute, I guess. Much as I love living here, I wish we had decent BBQ. Dammit.
And, yeah, Bohemian Rhapsody is a good one.
Daughter and SIL owe over $2K of taxes, 90% of which is a payback of a health-related credit, since Daughter got a better job with a decent salary. I do wish they’d pay more attention to their money, etc, but they’re adults, theoretically. While they were setting up a payment plan, they were asked if they wanted Trump Accounts for their kids. I looked it up - it’s some sort of saving plan where the gummint invests after-tax dollars for you. I think I’d be more inclined to trust my money guy instead. Daughter and SIL feel the same way. Plus I have an account earmarked for the kids, assuming nothing comes up that requires us to dip into it.
We’re starting at 61 Ferrets, headed to low 90s. I intend to finish the painting today. There’s still some trim areas to cut in, then I can break out the roller. Then on Firday, we’re getting these delivered to go on our berth - they allow the bed to “breathe” And once everything is finally painted and I give it a really good cleaning, we can bring the mattresses back aboard. We get the bigger one - the other will be for Otis, because, well, FCD…
So, boat work today, then I get 2 days of working at home, and Saturday is Roxy’s b-day party in the basement. Maybe I can relax on Sunday? Oh, and today is the RoxStar’s actual 8th birthday - can it really be 8 years??
Happy Wednesday!
Happy birthday, RoxStar! You’re gonna rule the world!
Mrs. Nott finished our taxes and got them sent to the Infernal Revenue Service. There was a weird, only-in-Indiana hiccup in there that kept her from e-filing. I can barely understand it, and I’m sure I couldn’t explain it to you. Anyway, we had ice cream to celebrate having dealt with the tax man.
Today, we’re going to see my cardiologist, because my blood pressure med needed a refill. He’ll probably listen to my chest, give me an EKG, and tell me I could get my BP med from my regular doctor.
When I took typing, if the teacher caught you excessively looking at the keyboard, she’d drag out the blank typewriter, which had nothing printed on the keys. That seemed cruel to me. I ended up flunking Typing, and the teacher told me I was the first ever to do so. I later learned to type fairly well, partly due to the fact that backspacing on a computer is a lot easier than erasing or Wite-Out.
Good morning, MMPers! I am up, caffeinated, and looking pretty. We double yoga’d last night. The teacher for the stretchy, relaxing class subbed for the first power class. Holy moly, she kicked our butts. Who’da thought she had it in her? I collected chicken while Mrs Magill got herself a much needed glass of wine. Apparently, someone let all the stupid people out of their cages yesterday, so dinner last night was going to involve either wine or ice cream. She decided wine would be better.
Squeaky was stuck at the Whataburger late last night. They had put him on the cashier’s stand, and then didn’t have anyone to relive him at eight. Someone needs to remind the shift leader that sixteen year-olds are not supposed to work past eight on a school night in Tennessee.
Today is a counselling day. I reckon I have a lot to talk about.
It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, though there is something to be said about not having to expose a large amount of one’s anatomy to the cold when nature calls.
FCM - All those heretical tomato based sauces make me weep. Happy birthday to the Roxstar!
I tried typing this without looking at the keyboard. I don’t think I did too bad. My mother had an IBM Selectric Typewriter. Then in the mid-eighties, my father bought her a self correcting Selectric, which remembered the last X keystrokes, and had a key that would erase them, so you could make corrections without moving the paper. Fancy!
Heh, I went to a somewhat la-di-dah selective girls’ school, where the eejit head teacher did not approve of us learning to type, as we were going to have secretaries to do that sort of thing for us. We also weren’t allowed trousers, we just had to freeze in knee-length skirts. In this millennium.
We actually had a shiny computer room, even internet access, but no qualifications in IT were offered at any level, because it this whole computer thing was probably only a fad.
The daft old bat retired shortly after I left, thankfully.
Hope Roxy has a good birthday! Time went a big vague around covid, but yeah, it doesn’t seem like that should have been 8 years. Did you check her ID?
If ever there was a scenario that called for “why not both?”
Wowza. Where I work (a small local biz, no H.R. or anything like that) the labor laws for teenagers are carved in granite. Shift leader will cover the station their damn selves if need be, but the kids go the fuck home at the appointed hour.
Heh. “Crack.” “Anatomy.” You made a butt joke.
The manager got a phone call from an angry Italian woman this morning. I don’t think this will happen again.
Motto when directing a comedy: Butts are always funny.
Forget labor laws - that’s the real enforcement right there.