Yesterday, I got a nomination from one of my favorite bloggers, Holli at Holli's Hoots and Hollers. What I did to her, I don't know (Juuuuuust kidding), for I am one of those people who isn't very "blog award" motivated. Mainly because of the usual "nominate X bloggers" requirement, this time 5 to 20. Twenty nominations would have me dipping heavily into the "that asshole Martin nominated me" end of my blogging friends. Heck, 5 might cover that. It always makes me feel a lot like Jehovah's Witnesses must feel in my neighborhood. So why don't I post a "No awards please" sign on my blog like some others do? Pure ego.
So I promised to do the first two requirements, which doesn't rightly qualify me for the "Creative Blogger Award", so maybe I'll just claim to be a creative bugger and leave it at that. Anyway, the first requirement is "thank and link to the nominating person", which I have linked. And now I am thanking. Thank you so much. Kinda what I get for spilling your "secret" in the comments section yesterday, huh? LOL.
The second requirement involves sharing five "facts about myself." Remember, you asked for it:
1- The two greatest things in my life (Laurie and the kids) came as a result of the two biggest mistakes of my life (working at Arden Co. and marrying their Mom, respectively).
2- As a kid, I had a handful- rather, two handfuls- of warts. Probably goes a ways to explain my social awkwardness. The summer between grade school and high school, I decided to try the old wives' cure of slicing a potato in half, rub it on the warts, throw the potato over your shoulder without looking for where it landed. It may be a chemical in the potato or some magic force, take yer pick. But within two weeks, more than two dozen warts, which had defied the best efforts of Compound W and prescription cremes for almost a decade, simply crumbled into dust and never came back.
3- My Mom actually helped make the Oakland Athletics my favorite baseball team. It was the 1972 playoffs, and I was kinda rooting for the A's, because how cool is green and gold? Lerin LaGrow was pitching for the Tigers to Bert Campaneris. A pitch thocked Campy hard in the shin. He dropped to one knee, and promptly tomahawked his bat at LaGrow. What then ensued was a fifteen minute argument between an mother against violence and a ten year old defiantly shouting, "I'd do the same thing!" If there was going to be a doubt about who I was following thenceforth, that argument erased it.
4- If I have all the ingredients at home, my ultimate cheeseburger has the following toppings (or bottom-ings, depending): Ketchup, ranch, light bit of onions, sliced mushrooms, heavy on the onion powder, Mrs. Dash (trying to watch the salt, y'know), and any available cheese, up to and including Velveeta or available substitute, American slices, shredded mozzarella, and grated parmesan/romano blend. If we have buns, better be sesame seeds. Otherwise white is fine. Oh, and potato chips for crunch.
5- As a newly minted Whovian, I am never far from my sonic screwdriver, which gets used more than I like to seal shut a certain dog's aromatic orifice.
Picture time, from a collection of walks!
|Wild raspberries. Nothing but tart, but still a nice treat.|
|Left center of the picture, little white eye. Has the camo thing down good.|
|"Mom, this vacation you booked really sucks."|
|"Crap, here comes Scrappy. Do I run, or just laugh at him?"|
So today we set out on a walk to the woods. Only thing we ran into (other than rain on the way home) was an odd sort who we ran into near the last curve in the trail before the north end of the side trail (if curious, go back up and hit the map link.) He seemed to be pacing back and forth, fiddling with his phone, and eating a banana. As we passed, he asked what Scrappy's name was. I told him, he grunted, end of conversation. Later, we passed a banana peel hanging on a bush just where the trail leaves the woods. Really dude?
So I thought to myself, it's a drug deal. The banana is a signpost for his contact. He opened the other one so we wouldn't be suspicious when we passed the "signal" one. His contact is late, he's checking the time. Awkward conversation was to throw us off the scent, too. It's right near the nursing home, he's prolly waiting for someone to sneak him out some Oxycodon or morphine.
Or he's just a weird sort of litterbug. Anyway...
|My pet slime mold is thriving again...|
|Under the barn overhang in the "ferocious rainstorm".|
Lastly but not leastly, we need to address the topic of Jared Fogle. A lot of rumors going around, and I'm not going to add to them. Honestly, I prayed for him today when I thought about him, either falsely accused or trapped in a life that is about to destroy him.
However, the smartass in the back of my head, came up with, "Subway should just change their slogan to, What surprise will Jared have for our buns today?"
You try living with this guy...