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, February 13, 2004


Just got here after having to meet on site with our architect for the dumb old canopy deal. At least it wasn't raining. But it was cold. Not that I really have ANY reason to complain about the weather--earlier this week I was corresponding with Toni Albani, Possumblog's Minnesota Correspondent, and the subject turned to the weather. Or not thinking things through. Or something.

IN ANY EVENT, seeing as I now have more junk to get done this morning, and that I think that making fun of someone else's misfortune is wrong (yet still entertaining), with Toni's permission I will post the tale she sent me, which fulfills the necessity of entertaining blog content with absolutely no work on my part.
Hey I got a story of the dumb and stupid for ya.
Oh please don't let it be about me oh please don't let it be about me oh please don't let it...
Last night I went to let Tinker
WHEW! It's about Toni! Or Tinker.
out to do her business
You know, I think I would find Tinker a business that can be done indoors, like accounting or homeopathy or something. But that's just me.
and the sliding patio door was REALLY sticking (I think it's from ice melting into the tracks).

Anyway, I couldn't get the bleepin' door shut. So, I go outside to get better leverage to slide it shut.

I forget there's HUGE icicles hanging down. First I poke the top of my head with the point of one of the icicles. Then, of course, I bumped it and the top part of the icicle clonks me on the head. So, now I've got a cut that's bleeding and I've got a lump on my head. BUT --- I do have the door closed.
As well as a part in the Iron Range Community Theater Three Stooges Revival!
Only problem is I can't get it open again enough for me to squeeze through!!!

Wearing lightweight clogs, I had to step into snow drifts up to my knees to go around to the front of the house. Thank god I was dressed and not in a robe, 'cause that would have been so cold. Got in through the garage which has a touch pad entry -- I keep all the doors locked all the time even if I'm home. Just habit. See the kind of fun you're missing not living up here!
Ummm. Yeah.

I think I will stay where everyone swears they're gonna die because it's gotten down to 39 degrees.

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