Failure is not an option.
It comes standard!
Blondie(on telephone): I'd like the number for John Jackson in Cincinnati, please. Directory Assistance: We have multiple listings. Do you have a street name? Blondie: Well, my husband calls me "Hot Stuff." Other Bloggers On Related Topics: |
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I can't do that. My right hip has limited range of motion, and I can touch my right foot with either hand but not both hands at once. That doesn't make it impossible to put on socks, but I have to be lying in bed to do it, and it takes about an hour of extreme frustration to get my right sock on. The tax on my time is bad, but the tax on my tolerance is, well, intolerable. Diabetics tend to be fractious anyway, and by the time I get my socks on, I'm ready to head for a gun shop and buy a Sig Sauer to blow away anyone who looks at me cross-eyed. Last week, I developed a disturbing sore on the thumb of my left foot. I confess to being a little paranoid about my feet. Is this it? Is amputation next? But the doc said it was just a blood blister, caused by not wearing socks under my leather shoes. Socks Are A Bane |
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That's not to say my salads aren't edible. In fact, they're fairly good. It's just that Blondie's salads seem to be "magically delicious", (and no, they don't include breakfast cereal in them.) My late first wife, Em, was a master at most cookery, and an absolute genius at soup. I've learned to make very good soup, almost as good as Em did, but not quite. I, on the other hand, am better at baking bread than either one of them, and while I've tried to pass along that artistry to each of them, it hasn't worked. |
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If you have a cow, you probably know more about milking it than I do. I suppose I could tell you how to bake bread, but I'd like to point out that there's a third food in the Blizzard Food Pyramid. That's homemade popcorn. It's nice to have bread and milk in the house in case you get snowbound, but this is really a good time for getting out the coal-oil lanterns in case the electricity goes out, playing old songs on the phonograph until it does go out, and setting up the card table to put together a jigsaw puzzle, while munching on freshly-popped corn. A Pox On Microwave Popcorn! |
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