Possumblog

Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.


Friday, July 19, 2002

That wasn't so bad--woke up sorta late, watched DragonTales and snuggled with Tiny Girl (snuggling being a bit of misnomer, in that it consisted of her sprawling across the foot of the bed and rhythmically kicking me in the groin in time with the music), got Oldest Girl registered at the middle school (took about five minutes, cost $42), ate a hearty brunch at Cracker Barrel (took longer than the creation of the world, cost about $42), got Middle Girl to mostly clean her room (took all stinking day, cost innumerable amounts of hair being pulled from my scalp, and the banishment of Tiny Girl to our bedroom to keep her out of the way), got Boy and Middle Girl registered at the elementary school (took about thirty minutes due to everyone in town showing up when I did, but cost only $10 for two agenda books), played at the park (which took only long enough for them to melt into little puddles, cost nothing), went home to welcome Mom, ate supper, and proceeded to work on getting four different school supply lists filled (still incomplete, cost is indetermined since we were recycling as much unused supplies from past years as possible--"Look honey, I don't think the crayon cares if it's only one inch long--it's STILL a blue crayon!" "I KNOW it says 70 sheet notebook, but tearing out the ten you scribbled on during school last year won't matter--it STILL says '70' on the cover!")

And now I'm back here, once more with a pile of undone stuff to be done. So, as always, go read all the folks listed above and I'll check back in once I get some of these alligators beaten back.


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