Wednesday, June 13, 2007

She's Prattling

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I frequent the rotting rack in the grocery department of that store I practically live in. Nabbed an angel food cake the other day for a modest price, split it in 3 layers, and slathered it with a whipped combination of cream, powdered sugar, and coffee crystals. Tossed handfuls of toasted coconut on each layer. Taste-testing a piece, Charles and I agreed we could easily devour the entire creation in one sitting but decided against doing it. The sourdough bread on the rotting rack makes luscious bread pudding, but I stopped buying it when I birthed my own Herman starter. Good ol' Herman. I ignored him for nearly a month once (no food, no stroking), and he was still kickin'.
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Two nights ago there was a teensy bug inside my computer monitor. He spent the evening creeping around the screen, a constant distraction.
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I'm assuming it was my responsive email to a friend overseas, when she wrote to ask if we'd survived the Kansas tornadoes, which prompted a plethora of ISP problems finally resulting in the directive to reconfigure my outgoing mail server. Now I have an outgoing mail server that other customers don’t have. Don't I feel special. That entire, lengthy and detailed incident (for which I was given a totally nonsensical explanation) leads me to the conclusion that I got bumped onto a new and more attended list. Really, they should have come up with something better than the proffered explanation, and if I wasn't so vehemently opposed to lying, I could have written a more believable script for them. For that matter, a mere splutterance of the truth would have worked, since it was pretty clear what the whole thing was really about. Like we don’t already know anyway? It's just ignored by or beyond the interests of many. Ho-hum.
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I bought 3 more fans and pried open the windows I'd painted shut last year. The fans are touted as consuming 80% less electricity than air conditioners. Sure is muggy in here.
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Not as fearful of tiggers and chicks as I am, Charles is dealing with 50 to 75 chigger bites right now. Maybe if I stopped accidentally reversing the beginning letters nearly every time I mention them, everyone would be more inclined to heed my warnings. Who, after all, would fear a tigger or a chick?
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The chickens have scratched and wrenched the pansies from the flower box for the last time, and that not because I stuck the chickens in the freezer -- but don't think I didn't consider that option. I refuse to poke the surviving pansies into the dirt again. Who's dumber -- me or a chicken? I finally realized I was losing my standing as the smarter.
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I left towels on the clothesline overnight last night. It rained.

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Okay, as I type, there has come upon us a virtual downpour -- not drips, not drops, but sheets of rain. After about 30 seconds, CarolineNot says to herself, "I thought Son 3 went out the back door a few minutes ago. Hmm, he must not have." Door bursts open these 2 minutes later, and Son 3 enters -- drenched and dripping -- with the utterance, "It's starting to sprinkle out there."

Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves:
be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves.
Matthew 10:16
Absolutely

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