You did not see a picture of the Cow Tree yesterday because I took an initial one with my phone and emailed it to myself. However, the email did not process and I got caught up trying to figure out what I had done wrong. And, then, BAM, I realized my phone was losing charge and failing to recharge. This happened once before – a week ago and Quentin told me to let the battery sit out all night; I did that and it worked.

But one week ago was not a day before I am to leave for the Ohio Redoubt and onto Las Vegas . . . and even if I have got it charging now, is it going to happen again and again? Is it? I could. Yes, it could. No cell phone. Imagine that!!! Oh, I don’t have to imagine, I can remember. But never mind that – I spoil easily.

This morning I am going to the Sprint store to get the phone tested and hope they will tell me it is just the battery and a new one will be the cure.

That brings me back to the Cow Tree . . . Can I not take my camera and take a couple of pictures and transfer them to my computer . . . well, yes, but I have a full phone fret going and I don’t know how many deep breaths it would take to go through that process. What if I hyperventilate and pass out and drop the camera and it breaks or what if it is worse and the computer falls off my lap.

Here comes Sophie with her sneakered feet. . . THANKS, I NEEDED THAT.

Another Sophie incident

So, I was supposed to post a picture of the cow tree and I have not. I have a reason: I am tired. Too tired to even go back and capitalize the title of this post. But I am probably not as tired as I will be on Sunday when we fly from Las Vegas to Dayton, Ohio. Oh, let me be clearer. We fly from Las Vegas to Dulles on THE VERY EAST COAST and then fly back to the WEST SIDE OF OHIO.

Of course, we could charter a jet if I win at the same ratio I did last year at the airport. Less than one dollar got me 24 of them. Now I just have to bet a million and voila, I can have a massage while on the charter home.

I guess I will suck it up and take a picture and post it tomorrow. You know, that Cow Tree is getting to be a nag so I will get a mooove on. Acccccckkkkkkk!

I need to work harder at getting a picture of our cow tree here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse – a picture, that is, which will do it justice.

It’s a skinny Alpine tree, about four feet tall and we wanted it to be understated, so it has only 20 lights on it. They are, however, a nice warm golden glow. So far we have various cows on the branches, a cow angel at the top and, for some reason unknown to our consciousness, a pig and a chicken.

And, yes, the tree is leaning.

A picture soon – cross my heart.

I am comfy. I just looked on the news and saw shoppers looking as if they were in a mosh pit. I read that there was a big scramble for Black & Decker waffle makers; I don’t know if the shoppers emerged looking like waffles themselves or not.

I think if I were younger – much, much younger, I might entertain the thought of being part of an organized group to hit the stores and get some major bargains . . . a festive, youthful adventure with most of the fun being in the planning of the operation, the surgical precision – – – you know, the Special Ops kind of excitement. The aim would be to get some nice presents for people with a savings in money but an increase in effort and clever planning.

I don’t know, though, if the experience would leave me overall disappointed and dismayed by the rough rudeness of the crowd. I suspect a lot of the seekers of bargains might not be all that filled with the festive mood of the event. I MIGHT GET PUNCHED IN THE NOSE!

But, since I am “old” (Summer’s definition), I am going to stay on my sofa and be happy with the ongoing book sales on Kindle – and the opportunity to download samples. But, wait, I could put on a green eye shade and recruit young people for a gang of shoppers; uh, using the word “gang” is already casting doubts on this being a festive, goodwill endeavor. The green eye shade is tempting, though.

Der Bingle and I did benefit about four years ago on Black Friday; late in the day, we had to go to Wal-Mart for something and while walking through a main aisle, noticed that 19″ unknown brand flat screen TV’s were still in a small stack – despite the big markdown. Der Bingle didn’t have a TV at the Ohio Redoubt then and we decided to buy one. Well, four years later it is still going strong; he later got a good deal on a 32″ one with bonus points and I inherited the Sansui one. I still don’t know anything about the brand, but it works fine and takes up way less space in my special nook.

Maybe I’ll wander over to Wal-Mart late this afternoon . . . you never know. Then, again, I may waffle on whether to go or not.

Another day of housework. Yesterday I spent most of my time in the 20 by 20 catch-all room over the garage and in the attic. Today was bathrooms and the amazing plasticizing of upstairs windows, not to mention stair vacuuming. Oh, I mentioned it. My thigh muscles are burning.

Oh, and there is a big pile of firewood in the driveway to rack . . .

I don’t know what is happening to me . . . Perhaps it is a result of my accidentally putting Icy Hot in my mouth instead of toothpaste. I thought it best just to say it in a short sentence rather than serving it up as one of my involved stories of my life.

Alison’s should still harbors a broken bone and I am still here playing at Nazi nurse. I’ll leave my technique to your imagination.

I just saw blue and red flashing lights reflected on a brass lamp shade – it’s the cops on the side street. Hopped up and looked and everything. You don’t need much imagination to realize the level of drudgery here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse. I mean, when you go Woo Hoo at cop lights, you’re in sad shape. Or, more accurately, I stared at the reflection on the shade and thought, Oh! Could it be? Is it? Yes! Woo Hoo. Of course, this is following an afternoon of vacuuming cobwebs in the bunker . . .

I am tired; I have been going door to door, selling the holes in Swiss cheese. Shipping is free. Actually, the company doesn’t package them; they arrive at your door without box or wrapping paper. Don’t trip over them.
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Alison has been diagnosed with a broken bone in her shoulder. So a couple of times a day, I wrap her up in ace bandages and duct tape. Last year at this time, she fell and cracked her tailbone. I didn’t duct tape her then . . . You can think about that for a while – or not.

Meanwhile, I’m going to rest my bones for a bit.

My cousin Glenda is a dynamo and she is directing the musical Hairspray at Danville Area Community College just across the state line in Illinois. I’ll be heading down on Thursday morning to Attica, where I will meet up with my cousin Susie and we’ll go over to the matinee that day. Then I’ll come home Friday morning.

Up to now, the college has done plays under Glenda’s guidance and this is the first musical. Musicals, I have learned, take way more time and preparation and money than do plays. And then there are the performances which last a couple of hours; it makes me think of cooking a holiday meal – all that work and then chomp, chomp, chomp and it’s over. Ironically, Glenda has also worked as a caterer.(She is so good that she was coaxed out of cooking-retirement by the promise of a LARGE donation to the musical’s budget to cater one gathering.)

Now I’m the kind of person who would want to bronze the food and the actors. I mean, think of people eating the Mona Lisa . . .