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, April 16, 2004
About that time.
Not that I particularly am looking forward to the weekend ahead--our yard has grown a dense forest of something-green-that's-not-grass that really needs to be knocked down before the nosy pests who don't cut their own grass show up to complain. Nick's wife said I needed to not worry about such things, but I can't help it. Then there's the fun of soccer tomorrow--five, count 'em, FIVE games--Cat has one at 10, and then one at 5 in the afternoon, Boy has one at 9 over on the west side of town, and Rebecca has one at 11:30 and at 2:30 in HUNTSVILLE! (Silly stinkin' tournament.) Obviously, this is going to require something beyond our normal mode of having to be in two places at once, so we've had to dragoon Reba's parents into this to get Cat to the local game, as Reba takes Jonathan out to Adamsville, and I get the task of driving up to Huntsville for the second time this month. Wheeee.
Then there is Sunday, with the blessed relief of church, which would be even more of a relief if it were not impolite to snore. Such is frowned upon, though. (I knew moving closer to the front was a mistake!)
Anyway, none of you tell that grouchy dog woman about all this, or she'll get mad at me for not taking it easy. I do promise to stay away from sharp things, however--well, aside from the whirling lawn mower blade. And I might not use my straight razor to shave with. I also might decide to put off flensing that whale I bought for a day or two. Nope, none of that--maybe I'll just spend a nice, relaxing evening cataloging my glass shard and rusty can lid collection.
See you all bright and early Monday!
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