Look HERE for an important announcement.

Oh, I don’t suppose it’s too much snow and Friday is supposed to be in the high 40’s, but right now we have snow and wind and it “feels like” 14 degrees. To top it off, today is Trash Stomping Day – you know the day I climb up the step ladder and then on top of air-filled trash bags so they will sink down into the trash can(s).

Oh, yes, I also remember I left the car half in and half out of the garage because at the last minute I realized my backseat needed to be emptied and the tower of firewood against the inner garage wall left little maneuvering space. All I had to do was run back out and pull the car a few feet forward but I forgot. SIGH.

There is one more thing about March snow that Summer relishes . . . it makes good snowballs.

While looking for the picture of the giant iceball that formed inside a small room refrigerator – you don’t want to see that picture – I came across this one of two friends.

Daylight Savings Time began today. Too early – not the morning, but the dratted Daylight Savings Time itself. When the powers that be moved the starting date up, they fiddled with the physical adaptation of humans to the sun/earth relationship. Our physical bodies are not ready to spring forward; we are spring preemies.

A few weeks later and this hour jump is not as jolting – people are enough into the dawn to absorb an hour change. Doing it now thrusts us back into the hibernation mindset of pitch dark mornings.

It doesn’t help that The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse is on the very western part of the Eastern Time Zone . . . Thank you, ex-Governor Mitch Daniels.

Oh, this is a saga, in case you didn’t know.HERE HERE, HERE, HERE, and HERE (which includes a book reviewlet.

UPDATE: Purple smoke appeared above the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse . . . Summer has announced Trunko’s new name is Thugo.

Two (actually four) new characters have joined us here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse, with auxiliary assignment to the Ohio Redoubt. They are Trunko and Babo (plus Little Trunko and Little Babo). Alison opened the Speakeasy Door and then she opened the door and here they are.

UPDATE: A candid little sneak photo:

Shane is in the doghouse, figuratively speaking, of course. When Der Bingle opened the door to take Alison to work, Shane took off like a drone manned by a crazy psycho. Bad. But it gets worse: I am in the doghouse also. My cell phone went to voicemail and I didn’t hear the kitchen phone so I was unaware of this and Der Bingle had to chase “the dog” down.

I was informed of the cellphone and kitchen phone aspect when he returned.

I can’t stay in my doghouse because we have another person sick here and one person who needs help with daily tasks (PC talk would be special needs) . . . so I, myself, am unaware whether the report tonight will be upbeat of just a big bloc of white space where the lack of writing screams, I’M POUTING AND IN A REAL SNIT!!!.

Better get the flares ready to put in a circle around me.

A while ago, the PBC & Roadhouse received a decoration, scarfed at a clearance sale by LZP,  for next year’s tree.

I put it on the little table in front of where I was sitting. And then, out of the blue, it fell off and shattered. Der Bingle and I looked at each other and didn’t say a word.

It was not a pretty sight and I carefully picked up all the tiny,thin,shiny pieces . . . and sighed. Then I put my little AmeliaJake mind to work and came up with the idea of stuffing it with cotton balls to use as a foundation for reconstruction.

The front side is shown above and didn’t turn out too bad, but the back side has a couple of obvious CSI red flags.

As we say here, it has character (and glue)

When I went to check my email I noticed that my airport signal was not registering, so I went to System Preferences and did what I needed to do. When I got to the part about choosing a network to join, one choice stood out: KENDALLVILLE POLICE SURVEILLANCE. 

So, really, officer, I never saw that man, woman, child, whoever, whatever in my life . . .

Oh, wait, why do I hear scurrying around sounds in the Foo Bar?