Sometimes one’s day just does not go as planned.
Right before bed, I had reminded the Mole that we needed to leave NLT 0700 since I really wanted to make dental sick call. At just a few minutes before I wanted to leave, I realized that I had not heard a sound from upstairs.
No surprise, he was sound asleep. Very unhappy when woken to find that he did not have an hour to get ready. And you think teenage girls can take a long time?
It was drizzling, trucks were doing strange things on the roadways, and we were listening to Wiskey Sour. The upshot was that I zigged when I should have zagged and didn’t notice till I saw the exit for Reading. To compound things, instead of just heading around the traffic circle and getting back on the M4 in the correct direction, I decided to attempt a short cut through Reading.
Two times around downtown Reading before we could get out of there (would you believe that there is rush hour traffic in Reading?) and we finally got back to the A33 and found the M4. Lost an hour literally driving in circles.
Needless to say, by the time we got to Croughton, it was after dental sick call hours. They took pity on me. Said I could wait, or have a real appointment time at 1300. I opted for the appointment and we headed off to run errands. Just as I went into the PX, the fire alarm went off. 20 minutes later, they let us back in, all still clueless as to why it rang.
Commissary, then a run by the library which was still officially closed. They are supposed to be finished with the relocation by Wednesday. Since I will be out of town next week figured it would be nice to return the new best sellers and at least some of the DVDs.
Got the tooth looked at. We decided to hold off on drilling a little while longer. I don’t mind a bit.
with the occasional glimpse of sky
Sock Wars III
I am still watching the forums and howling with laughter. The dead are mounting and the obits are a hoot:
The Dead Dulcinea wrote:
Here lies Dulcinea Quixote de la Mancha, cruelly felled by a fatal case of Sox Pox!
She leaves behind her loving husband, Don (a good guy but seriously delusional), and their children Aldonza Duet, Don Dos, Juan, Pedro, Miguel, Angel and Sam (who bears a striking resemblence to Sancho, Don’s faithful but apparently not so trusty sidekick).
She also leaves behind her best friend Aldonza (the barmaid and part-time hooker), Sancho (we know what kind of friend he was) and a pet dragon, Spike.
Dulcinea loved the outdoors in the frozen tundra called Wisconsin, especially tilting at windmills. She pretty much tilted at everything else after Aldonza poured another one. When not tilting, she was known to wage war with socks.
She’ll be buried in the family plot, wearing her beautiful, Sox Pox Socks!
She leaves her craftroom of wondrous yarns to her knitting friends, figuring they’ll duke it out over who gets what.
Please feed Spike on your way out… you don’t want to walk past a hungry dragon!
and Tiny Tyrant:
Interred May 14, 2008 by Knit Picks Memories in Rocky Mountain Dusk
Tiny is survived by her husband who refused to get the mail that
day and spare her from her fate. Her three dogs, Cliff the Mutt,
Oscar the Dog and Scrat the Brat, who all allowed the mail man
to deliver the package and four felines who simply worry about
where their next meal is coming from since dad is absent minded
about set meals. Her stash is not available as she intends to
come back from the dead and haunt her husband and leave yarn in
all the rooms of the house and needles in the most unsuspecting
I am sure that I will be “dead” sometime early next week. Must think of something to say.
Finished up Whisky Sour and started on Bloody Mary, both by J A Konrath. They are funny and Dick Hill is perhaps my favorite reader of all time.
Right near the end of my road, a trail winds back into the woods. This arch, made of long dead greenery wound around a frame stands by itself. No clue how long it has been standing, nor why. Only near object is this strange looking shelter, tucked between two huge trees with toes dug deep in the earth.