Grand Slam Communication
The problem with knee surgery recovery is that the bendy parts don’t want to bend.
But if I’m ever going to walk again, the bendy parts are going to have to bend.
Do you see where I’m going with this?
OUCH!
I do want to walk again.
So I bend.
I may or may not be dropping a couple of f-bombs along the way.
There’s really no way to confirm those rumors.
Studies have shown that cursing really does help to relieve the pain.
I read it on Wikipedia so it’s got to be true.
It was a betrayal.
A betrayal of the worst kind.
It’s almost unforgiveable.
I opened the front door right over my foot.
My big toenail snapped backwards.
It was bloody and gross and painful.
Yes, I dropped a couple of F-bombs.
An F-bomb is required at a time like that.
I feel betrayed by my flip-flops.
It’s not quite the right weather to give them up in favor of boots.
But boots would never let such an insult happen.
Boots are there to protect you.
Boots would never betray you like that.
Flip-flops, on the other hand, will throw you under the bus.
Or the door.
Whatever.
Time’s up, flip-flops.
Boot season starts today.
What is wrong with the ants in Texas?
I doused the bathroom with Raid yesterday.
Today there are still ants.
But they are not in a trail.
There is no rhyme or reason.
They were on the wall, they were in the sink, they were in a cabinet.
In California, the ants form a trail.
All you have to do is follow the trail to see where they are coming from, and then treat that area.
When you use bug spray in California, the next day there will be piles of dead ants.
There were no dead bugs in my bathroom today.
These Texas fire ants are seriously messing with me.
I think their mission is to have me use so much Raid that I poison myself.
I can only imagine their ant joy when I finally collapse from the fumes of my own bug spray.
Then they will march in and bite me, keeping me just barely alive.
So they can watch me suffer.
I was really hoping for a more dignified ending.
Stupid ants.
The first casualty of our Thanksgiving celebration was a small cut on my finger.
Really, it was so small and insignificant that I didn’t even know it was there.
Until it found the salt.
Rumor has it that some violent cursing ensued.
I will neither confirm nor deny that rumor.
But let’s just say that the wound is no longer small nor insignificant.
Happy Thanksgiving Day!
I put spider webbing all over the holly bushes in my front yard.
It looked good and spooky.
I never really thought about how I was going to take it down.
Holly is a beautiful, sentimental, Christmasy sort of plant.
But it’s got evil, Halloweeny, razor-sharp leaves.
And all I had in the house were crayon band-aids from our recent ER visit.
Next year I will decorate the front door and the oak tree.
But not the vicious holly bushes.