If Wishes Were Horses…

And if I were a real writer, then there’d be well written and interesting observations here about the state of the world here at the dawn of 2006.  Five hundred or 1000 words about my thoughts and dreams and disappointments and aspirations. 

Instead, in perfect keeping with my “Spanglemonkey Manly Diversion of a Sunday Afternoon (Striding the Estate with Rifle and Boots) Award, 2005!” (Thanks a billion, Jo!), I spent my Sunday in the ceiliing crawlspace inhaling insulation, scratching, and ultimately installing a bathroom fan.

Next week—granite countertop, new sinks and perhaps some before and after pictures.  Meanwhile, to all the real writers out there, thank you for your words. 

Posted by 'mouse on 01/02 at 11:41 AM
  1. That’s one fine countertop, ‘mouse! Oh, wait, no countertop photos here. Do you need a camera? ;-)

    Posted by kimberly  on  01/14  at  03:44 PM
  2. Oh, man, that is sooooo mean.  (But I deserve it for several reasons.)

    Wanna stop by for margaritas and take a few pictures for me?  How ‘bout hot-buttered rum if it doesn’t stop goddamn-raining?

    Posted by 'mouse  on  01/14  at  03:53 PM
  3. It’s sleeting here.  May I please have a margarita, too?

    Posted by Bakerina  on  01/14  at  08:36 PM
  4. um..make mine virgin; preferably of italian-american descent.  because above all and always, i would do it again.

    Posted by goliard  on  01/24  at  05:21 AM
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