Friday, July 26, 2013

Is It Friday Already?

This week has gone by too fast. I feel like I'm being stretched in too many directions, and nothing is getting done. Hubby and I have canned tomato juice, diced tomatoes, crushed tomatoes, three varieties of salsa, and I've made tomato soup. I didn't like it well enough to can it. And I still have about 5 gallons of tomatoes to do, and would like to pick some green ones and make some chow chow. I'm just about sick of tomatoes. But it's the best production we've ever had so I guess we should be grateful. Next year could be a bust.

In addition to tomatoes, I've frozen several quarts of shredded zucchini, onions, and blackeye peas. We should eat this year.

We finally got paid by the insurance company and looked at some replacement flooring. I hate making these choices. What I like in the store, I don't like as well once we get it home. This is the original floor:



And here are three choices we picked yesterday.



I really liked the first one in the store, but not so much here. What do you think?

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Thursday, July 25, 2013

Men Will Be Men

Today's funny of the day.

Hubby has a ham radio, and he has recently discovered that he can listen to the law enforcement bands. Yesterday, there was a call from the dispatcher saying there was a woman driving on the freeway wearing only a bra and a thong, flashing other drivers, and weaving in and out of traffic. Two units responded immediately that they would take the call.

Now is that dedication, or what? Yeah I know. It's the or what.

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Friday, July 12, 2013

Just a Teeny, Tiny, Blogger Omission

Have you ever checked on a blog you used to read but haven't noticed updates lately, only to find this:



I would LOVE to contact the author and request an invitation - if only there were a contact link. 

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Thursday, July 11, 2013

Why You Don't See Many Brick Mailboxes on Rural Roads

Because sooner or later, it will end up looking like this.



No, this is not my house. Our streak of bad luck seems to have moved next door.  This was a hit and run, as are most in my stretch of the woods.

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