Unrelated backyard casualty - my pond filter system has fallen apart. I mean, it fell apart. I pulled the pump out of the water and nothing was attached - the filter is somewhere at the bottom of the pond, and far worse, the hose that comes out of the rock thingie in the middle of the pond ain't attached to the pump anymore and is somewhere at the bottom of the green water. My plans for tomorrow have changed, as I will have to figure out what the hell to do about this, besides cursing a blue streak about it I have thought several times that I should just get rid of this pond - yeah, "just" - like it would be easy - but it has a fishy population that I can't bear to uproot, they are healthy and happy, despite the disgusting green slimy condition of the water right now.
If you think you want a backyard pond, even a wee little one because they are so pretty - do yourself a favor, get a horse or a boat instead. A pond is damn near as much work and expense and you can't ride it.
Busted sprinkler head, busted pond filtration system, and that's just today's casualties. I do not need to own a house.
I did finish a pair of socks. I'll take pictures tomorrow but I am guessing you can visualize basic socks.
I baked oatmeal butterscotch cookies. I haven't made them in probably 10 years, but Girl had a craving. She took some to work for her to use as
I covered 17.5 exercise miles this week. The jeans that were tight before SAH are now hanging in the ass and thighs like pajamas - but the waist isn't much looser. I am frustrated by the weight gain pattern of middle age. Girlchild is also doing Runagogo, and she has decided that after 50 miles she is getting a trainer to set her up with a weight training program. I think I'll do the same.
I am so tired of the words "Anna Nicole" and "Imus" I can hardly stand it. The wheels are coming off at BushCo, Iraq is a disaster, but all we can talk about is the Baby Daddy Shit and Imus and his rude, racist mouth. And as I type this, NBC is beating the dead Imus horse yet again. Then we'll talk about Sanjaya, or whatever the hell his name is. The other night our PBS station aired "All the President's Men," and I was overcome with nostalgia for the days when Watergate was a big deal, and people actually paid attention. Watergate looks like a college prank compared to the systemic slime we have today, and yet, Imus and Anna Nicole and Sanjaya get news coverage, and the media doesn't pay attention to what matters.