Tag: My Darling B
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Why Vegetables Are So Important To Your Diet
It’s a people potato! Or My Darling B thinks so, anyway. She was unloading a basket full of veggies she brought in from her garden yesterday morning and asked me if I wanted to see the potato that looked like a well-endowed woman. Sure! I said. What red-blooded American man wouldn’t want to see that? Read.
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We All Have Our Hobbies
My Darling B took the day off from work today to spend it at the annual quilting expo that comes to the convention center. She was there when the doors opened at eight and didn’t come home until almost two o’clock this afternoon. She was exhausted. The place was jammed with silver-haired women who spent Read.
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She did
Special day: It was on this day, twenty-one years ago, that My Darling B answered, “I do,” after the preacher asked her if she wanted to be stuck with me for the rest of her natural life. Little did she know what she was getting into. Or maybe she did, after all. I certainly like Read.
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Hangar Dance
There were two or three other Rosies at the hangar dance last night, but only I had the privilege of dancing with the one who looked just like the one in the poster. The entertainment at Madison’s annual hangar dance is provided by Ladies Must Swing, an all-girl band that plays tunes made famous by Read.
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Pet Peeve
Is there one thing people do practically all the time, a small, insignificant thing that really shouldn’t bother you but, even so, makes you clench your teeth to keep yourself from screaming, “STOP DOING THAT! IT’S WRONG! WHERE’D YOU LEARN THAT?” For me, it’s when people say “reason why,” as in, “the reason why that’s Read.
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The Secret
Here’s one that’ll take me a little while to live down, at least in my own mind: My Darling B and I go to a group dance class each Tuesday and Thursday night. It sounds like a lot, but each class is only forty-five minutes and it goes by so quickly that it’s over just Read.
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Polar Cub
Ladies and Gentlemen, meet the Polar Cub, a table fan with sharp-edged metal blades and no safety cage to speak of. Turn it on and the blades whirl so fast you could lose a finger to this thing faster than you can say “Emergency Room.” Now that I’ve restored it to working order I imagine Read.
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Skeeters
I so want to be out on the patio this evening, enjoying the cool, evening breeze that’s finally come along to reward us all from enduring the long, hot, muggy day, but going out there right now would be like diving into a swimming pool filled with Bowie knives packed together so tightly that the Read.
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bleh
In Mouse-Catching News: Boo was acting all funny Saturday night, jumping around and chasing shadows across the floor. That’s usually the kind of thing Bonkers does, else My Darling B wouldn’t have taken much notice of her. “Whatcha doin’, Boo?” she asked, and when Boo turned to look at her, B noticed a mouse’s tail Read.
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dizzy
We mambo’d the night away at group dance class last night. A mambo is like a salsa, but in mambo you step off on the second beat; in salsa you step off on the first. Seems like a really tiny, insignificant difference, one that wouldn’t be too hard to take into account, and there’s no Read.
This Is Drivel 