Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Okay- I have an idea. The Republican slate of candidates is so lame that the whole presidential campaign is going to be such a waste of time that I think we should skip it and just declare Obama president again and take all that money and use it for education.
Nah. That'll never fly. Of course not. Too bad.
Did you see Mitt trying to pander to the southern vote? He ate "cheesy" grits. Haha! I bet he did. We do not eat cheesy grits in the south. We eat CHEESE grits. Kiss my southern ass, Mitt. Then go eat some more cheesy grits.
What a jerk.
It's a beautiful morning. It's like Hollywood Technicolor Beautiful today. Almost...cheesy. The sun is shining so bright it looks fake. The roosters are crowing. The birds are singing. The wisteria is blooming. The bees are buzzing. The Bradford pears are starting to blossom. The fig trees are holding their leaves up in a stiff, bright green salute.
I expect someone to burst onto the scene singing, "Oh what a beautiful morning!" at any second.
Musicals are weird, y'all. Some people really like them. I never really have.
I don't have that gene.
Yep. I think that even the loving of musicals is probably a gene.
I didn't get the musical gene or the religion gene or the patriotism gene.
I DID get the cooking gene, the loving-babies gene and the must-plant-shit-in-the-dirt gene.
Here's another gene I didn't get- the flag-flying gene. I don't fly any flags although I was tempted to fly an American flag when Obama got elected because for the first time in my life I was proud of our country in a very profound way. Almost a flag-flying way.
But I didn't.
I really hate those flags (and I apologize if you fly them) that proclaim "Happy Spring!" and so forth.
I'd rather just plant some flowers and let them proclaim the season.
I suppose I better get some breakfast before Owen gets here. A guy is coming to fix our well pump, too. I think. He came yesterday to do diagnosis. He did not appear to be a happy man and I immediately took a dislike to him because he would not say hello to my grandson although my grandson very politely and nicely kept saying, "Hey!" to him. "Hey, Man!" Owen said, raising his hand in greeting.
Well Guy ignored him. Are you kidding me?
Anyway, they have to take the roof off of the pump shed to get to the pump motor.
Oh boy. This is going to be a day.
A good one, I think. I am in a good mood and I am not going to take my eyes off of Owen for one second.
Y'all have a good one too.