I had heard rain predicted, so I knew that it probably would rain today, but that doesn’t make me any happier about it. I really did want to go over to the Bolton Fair for a few, and I know it’s rain or shine, but I’m not rain or shine. So after I go pick up a pair of jeans at JC Penney I guess I’ll just have to come back here. I washed the kitchen floor last night so I suppose I can focus on some other task in the house. Maybe more cleaning up the playroom?
I didn’t get around to doing anything painting-related up in that room, which is stinky because I don’t want to fill it back up until after I paint it. It’s not really a painting kind of day though, is it?
Junior wants to make cookies, so I think I’m going to send his dad to the store with him to buy the ingredients. His dad is the king cookie baker anyway. That will keep them both amused while I do other things, and then there will be cookies available! Woo! (Junior doesn’t EAT cookies, so the whole thing is kind of amusing. But we read the The Best Mouse Cookie Book for a bedtime story last night and he got baking in his head. Hey, he can cook lunch too, if he wants!
Went to the Ferncol fair again this year, and no cows gave birth. We went down for the dairy barn tour anyway, and I asked about last year’s fair calf and our tour guide said THREE calves were born over the weekend last year! She said our cow would have been out in the field anyway, because she was a year old. Awwwww, our baby is getting so grown up!
We spent a minimum of money this year, which was NICE. I only bought $10 worth of ride tickets (which worked out to 5 rides). I handed him the tickets, told him he had to decide what he wanted to ride, and that would be it. I have no idea how one goes about finding the oldest, rattiest looking rides, but they had. I went on the ferris wheel with Junior and actually had the thought “This is going to be a stupid way to die” as the thing shimmied every time we passed the motor. Ugh.
He also didn’t beg to play games because there were only three, and one of them was a balloon popping game and he HATED how loud it was. So that was a nice perk.
I’m starting to really freak about the people dying lately – they’re too young! Today we learned Robert Palmer died of a heart attack at 54. He was healthy, didn’t partake in all the typical celeb excesses (according to people who would know) and yet…he’s gone now.
I need to go home and listen to “Every Kind of People,” my favorite Robert Palmer song.
GO RED SOX!
Damn, I was only off by three nights. I wish they had clinched while we were at the game.
I got my hair cut last night. I like 75% of the cut. 75% of it looks the way I suspected it would when I made the decision to get my hair cut. But there’s about 25% of the cut that makes me want to scream and harm the she-devil who was wielding the scissors.
What the … was she thinking when she cut the bangs?
I told her to take an inch to an inch and a half off the length. It was getting long. But there was an implication, based on earlier conversation, that she just needed to fix the bangs. I am suddenly concerned that she thought “If I have to take an inch of the back, I probably have to take an inch off the front too.
It looks stupid, I know it does. You don’t have to spare my feelings. Well, okay, spare them a little. But really, did she look at the rest of my hair, which was cut first, and say “now to complete the look, we go with the bangs of the lead singer from Mister Mister circa 1985, or Rosie O’Donnell when she quit her TV show and went for the Hitler look.”