Spraying Roundup on Crabgrass (tough one, huh)
Sweeping concrete free of leaves (obsessively)
Putting furniture together (my back!)
Killing Giant Mosquito-looking bugs (where did it go? There it is!)
Connecting ice maker filter to water line (slight flood in the kitchen)
Hanging curtains (they sag in the middle; Spackle, please)
Keeping wood floors clean (my feet are black)
Fixing toilet paper holder in master bathroom (More Spackle, please)
Killing Giant Mosquito-looking bugs (What are these things called? What is this, Florida?)
Dripping bathtub faucet
Dryer voltage mismatch
Sprinkler water pressure is enough to run a water park (nice to have substantial pressure, but not nice to pelt the house and fence with water)
Stay tuned for more Floods, Bugs & Spackle. I haven't even dug into the bomb shelter yet. I've been down there a few times and from what I've seen it's an arachnid graveyard with eight-legged ghosts haunting their kin in every corner. I'll be wearing a bee keeper suit for that one. Anyone have Neil Gaiman's number (he bee keeps). That looks strange, bee keeps? Rules? Who needs 'em?
No baby yet. Wife getting restless (and still doing too much).
Oh, and I have two weeks off for Spring Break. Being a teacher pays, just not in dollars.
Sid Fleischman past away recently. Long live The Whipping Boy, along with several other brilliant reads. I met him at the Sayer's Lecture at UCLA a few years ago. Before I handed him my copy of The Whipping Boy, I wrote him a note on a Post-It that read: Nice Socks. He was wearing red socks that night and they were more than apparent while he crossed his legs onstage. He read the note and said, "If I knew my socks were going to draw so much attention, I wouldn't have worn them." Good ole, Sid.
Rest in Peace Mr. Fleischman.