Not a shingle dollar

Thats right friends, no play on words is to lame; we’re officially poor. Late last week we employed a classic strategy for budget busting known as “roofing.” Any time you employ someone to perform strenuous labor in uncomfortable circumstances AND you involve a primary component of the structure of your house… you’re likely to end up hosed. What’s more, like the garden variety, there are several ways you can take your hosing… the traditional “soaking” method or the lashing technique are but two examples. Either way your bound to feel ill afterwards.

I don’t know about you, but I’m about to throw my hose away. Not only is it harbinger of memories best forgotten, but everywhere it goes growing grass follows. Frankly, I’m surprised we’ve kept it around this long. I really hate to mow the grass.

On a high note: I took in a most excellent hockey game Saturday night. Had it come later in the season, with graver consequences hanging in the balance, it might have been the best live hockey experience of my sheltered existence. And on a relieved note, we made a nice trip to see Cheryl’s family in Orlando. As astute readers can attest, I don’t normally relish an opportunity to see our old home town, but Sunday’s road trip wasn’t bad at all. It may not sound like much, but there’s nothing wrong with a weekend that’s not bad.

**Author’s note: this entry was submitted in it’s entirety without proofing or editing of any kind. Just for kicks, I turned off the spell check too. (Boy we’re really having fun now!)

Give the gift of words.