"When I do not want to say things in real life I often say them here." — Mimi Smartypants
In & around Tucson, Arizona
The annual collector car show on the golf course at Tubac was yesterday. So too was the annual Sunnywood Estates homeowners’ association meeting. On the agenda: the election of new board members … and I was a nominee. Guess which event I rode my motorcycle to?
On-on to 2020, dear friends, and another decade of blogging at Paul’s Thing!
Our kitchen is done, and as promised, here’s the evidence.
A friend gently hinted I’d gone a bit overboard on Facebook and Instagram with kitchen photos, to which I responded, “Well, if you can’t have fun with social media, what’s it even for? Oh, right … handing your personal information over to faceless corporations to use in targeted advertising.”
When I drove handicapped patients for the Tucson VA Hospital, I had one skinny old guy who took three trips a week to University Medical Center for radiation treatment.
It’s been a couple of years since the Southwest Woodfords have assembled in one place. But family gatherings are what Thanksgiving’s for—at least that’s what it’s come to mean for many American families, ours included. Not only are we together, we even proved we can hold still long enough for a group photo.
I don’t know if Trump will resign (even if he’s impeached, he certainly won’t be convicted, so giving up à la Nixon is the best we can hope for), but if he does we’ll have Pence, and if Pence has his way we’ll have Gilead. Atwood is a timely read, to say the least.
The salesman told Donna not only will we not have to rinse dishes before putting them in the new unit, we shouldn’t, because the dishwasher it’s to work best with dirty dishes. Uh-huh. Tell me another one, appliance salesman.