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.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Well, I'm STILL busy, but yesterday was one of those days where every time I turned around, somebody was wanting me to do something, and I had to try to make some headway on doing my meeting note transcription, SO, this silly pile of poop had to fend for itself.
Some of you might have wondered how our dental visit went on Tuesday. Well, how very strange of you to wonder, but no matter--it went just fine. No cavities for Catherine or me, and I had the usual enjoyment of a faceful of hygienist reaching across me. Catherine had the usual enjoyment of getting to get a surprise out of the toy box. Much to my chagrin, she got one of those horrible sticky-hand things, as well as a less chagrin-inducing little foam airplane.
After we left, we went and picked up Boy and Middle Girl from Grandmom's, then headed on over to Sam's to get gas in the van. In the intervening seven minutes, Cat managed to annoy everyone with her sticky-hand toy--slapping and slinging and sticking it to everything--so much so that I told her I was going to take it away from her if she did anything else with it. Obviously, she had to continue. SO, I took it away from her and deposited it in the trash can at the gas pump. I figure one day she'll figure out when I say "no," I mean "no."
The airplane was much more fun, anyway. Although she did manage to break the flimsy foam fuselage right before the tail, causing it to be nothing more than some colored foam put together in a vaguely airplane shape. It does still fly, if you count falling to the ground as flying. I tried to throw it away last night, but she discovered it missing and fished it back out of the garbage. Oh well. At least it doesn't stick to everything.
ANYway, onward, then.
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