They are Spanish speaking so I got a chance to show off my broken Spanish. I loaned them my extension cord and my leaf blower to clean my gutters of the grit and shingle flotsam. Which reminds me, yooou know what strawberries and grits taste llike? Strawberries. Blueberries and grits? Blueberries. Butter and grits? Butter. Horse manure and grits? Grits.
I seem to be groggiest on Sunday. Maybe it's the one last vestige of work patterning. Anyway, I am zonked when I get up and while Istarted the 8:30 a.m. service attendance, I find I can't get Sunday-ready by then anymore. Just too slow. During the week, I can get ready quickly enough: A hat to hide my finger-in-a-socket hair-do, my jeans from yesterday (and the day before, etc as well as the tee shirt), socks (ditto) shoes (tied butloppy enough slip on, morning breath and I'm ready.
vig wig
with Bandit, from my book
About Me
- vigwig
- Born in Aruba, moved to Colombia at 10 years old, went away to military school at 14, to grandma's at 16, to University of Tulsa at 18, married, moved to Nederland, fathered two adopted one other for 3 total kids, moved to Conroe with different company, refereed soccer for 10 years, culminating in UIL referee status, wrote letters to the editor, umpired t-ball, coached t-ball & baseball, had a midlife crisis that cost me my wife, and nearly my life, divorced, single father of 16 r old, re-married, dx with PD, wife with non-hodgkin's lymphoma, pituitary tumor, living happily ever after, 6 g'kid
Baby beach 'fixed' in 2004
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