I had intentions of Carolyn hauling my carcass around today to try and get some photos and a breath of fresh air; except for doc appointments, I do not leave this house. It has been months since I was on a dedicated photo hunt, and I am deathly sick of looking at and reworking my old photos. I'm no longer capable of walking around in my tiny back yard where I can at least shoot some birds and other semi-interesting stuff. Anyway, she came up with something else she had to do today, so I sit here trying to think of a lie for the blog and am shooting blanks.
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The thick, black scab seems to be about ready to come off the side of my nose; I will spend some quality time soaking it and hoping it will fall away; it is such a degrading blemish on my natural facial beauty.
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It is once again tax time; and I am a week behind on beginning them; some were due yesterday but I have had no motivation to proceed with the onerous tasks. To say the truth, I do not care if they are ever done, but I suspect Uncle Sam has a different mind-set about such laxity; of course, Old Uncle doesn't have to pay taxes; just collect them. It would be a great thing if the government had to pay taxes on its income; I bet the tax laws would quickly be rewritten if Daddy Sugar had to ante-up.
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A word about the coming and all important worsh day; the word "worsh" is used by mostly uneducated hillbillies; the folk with more than a third grade education prefer the classier high-society sounding word "warsh". My grandma always said worsh and she had only third grade schooling. Her sister said warsh because she finished part of the fifth grade. The reason Mom had only third grade knowledge is because her father became sick and in 1903 when she was eight years old and she had to quit school to help support the large family. Her dad died in 1906.
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A Sunday salute to You, my friends!
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The thick, black scab seems to be about ready to come off the side of my nose; I will spend some quality time soaking it and hoping it will fall away; it is such a degrading blemish on my natural facial beauty.
----
It is once again tax time; and I am a week behind on beginning them; some were due yesterday but I have had no motivation to proceed with the onerous tasks. To say the truth, I do not care if they are ever done, but I suspect Uncle Sam has a different mind-set about such laxity; of course, Old Uncle doesn't have to pay taxes; just collect them. It would be a great thing if the government had to pay taxes on its income; I bet the tax laws would quickly be rewritten if Daddy Sugar had to ante-up.
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A word about the coming and all important worsh day; the word "worsh" is used by mostly uneducated hillbillies; the folk with more than a third grade education prefer the classier high-society sounding word "warsh". My grandma always said worsh and she had only third grade schooling. Her sister said warsh because she finished part of the fifth grade. The reason Mom had only third grade knowledge is because her father became sick and in 1903 when she was eight years old and she had to quit school to help support the large family. Her dad died in 1906.
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A Sunday salute to You, my friends!
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