The sun in shining, it's about zero degrees and I'm on the edge of my seat anticipating a day home alone to get stuff done and the paperback proof of Kicks Like a Girl. About 20 minutes into my "me time," the phone rang and sure enough, it was Mrs. W, the school secretary. Mr. B needs to be picked up since he's not feeling well.
In other news, I talked to a guy about using our land for his honeybees this summer in exchange for 50 pounds of honey. That's a pretty sweet deal.
I'm practicing for tomorrow's Scripps Spelling Bee. I'm the "Local Pronouncer" and take my duties very seriously. Pandiculation. Entablature. Rubicundity. Flagitiously. But really? The kids won't get that far down the list. I bet most of them get knocked out in round 16 when I read prognosticate.
(By the way, if Blogger was in the spelling bee, they'd lose because they have all four of those spelling words marked with the squiggly red underline.)
Here's the really bad news: Crazy Mom Tats lost everything in a house fire. Including her dear pets. Absolutely heartbreaking. And Becky's best cousin died. Go and give them a word of encouragement, will you?
I'm off to play nursemaid to Mr. B who has this unproductive cough deep in his chest. No way is this kid faking it, either, because it was Country Western Day at school and he got to dress like a cowboy and Team Testosterone loves anything cowboy. This past month Mr. T and Mr. B have begun to watch every western they can get their hands on because cowboys are all the rage 'round here--last night they watched The Outlaw Josey Wales and declared their intent to watch everything starring Clint Eastwood because he is so cool. Is he the same guy who plays Wolverine? Ah young grasshoppers, I see the resemblance, but no, that's Hugh Jackman who plays Wolverine and these westerns you're watching predate The X Men by at least 40 years. The boys also inadvertently suggested a great drinking game while watching a western by mentioning how often characters spit. (They didn't suggest drinking beer while watching westerns, I came up with that part myself.) I could see a lot of fun in taking a swig each time a dastardly cowhand shoots a stream of chaw into a saloon spittoon.
|hot muttonchopped mutant|
|hot muttonchopped cowboy|