Yes, I did drag myself out and bought a new string trimmer. Had to; the old one was dead. Being a moderately cheap sort, I went with a Ryobi—the cheapest straight shaft, attachment capable model Home Depot carries. It's a big heavy thing that will strengthen my arms, shoulders, and back. It has a 1 hp engine that roars like an enraged water buffalo so that the neighbors will know that I've finally gotten off my ample buttocks and mown the lawn. I went ahead and sprang for the edger attachment so that I, too, can have perfectly straight... um... edges.
Straight edges are very important in this neck of suburbia.
Before the day erupts in pre-feast activity, just thought I'd comment on how the week has gone, so far. Monday, I had my bone density scan and the preliminary results show that I don't have osteoporosis. Tuesday, I went for a 30-mile (okay, 29.13-mile) bike ride with CliffyB up and down the rolling hills around Grapevine Lake. Cliff's a great guy, fun to ride with, and if I can ever get my neck problems squared away, I hope to get strong enough so we can ride at his pace.
Yesterday, Sweetie and I ran over to Lewisville and had lunch at Johnny Carino's, one of our favorite restaurants that we've really missed since moving to Allen. As we waited for our food to come, I entertained myself by looking at the evocative black and white photographs on the walls; when I tired of that, I took to watching my fellow patrons.
The really expressive guy waiting to be seated.
The blast of perfume that followed in the wake of the middle-aged, elegantly coiffed woman and made me think of the elderly ladies in their furs who sat in the pew in front of me at midnight Mass when I was a kid.
The woman at the next table with the forced, nervous-sounding laugh.
The way the ceiling was designed so that it gave the impression of being lower and more finished than the water pipes, sprinklers, and wiring conduits it distracted from but didn't cover.
My wife thinks I'm being critical, and perhaps I am; but mostly I'm just people watching, trying to glean from what I can observe the lives they lead, what they're thinking.
Maybe I should just discourage the question, "What are you looking at?"
Straight edges are very important in this neck of suburbia.
Before the day erupts in pre-feast activity, just thought I'd comment on how the week has gone, so far. Monday, I had my bone density scan and the preliminary results show that I don't have osteoporosis. Tuesday, I went for a 30-mile (okay, 29.13-mile) bike ride with CliffyB up and down the rolling hills around Grapevine Lake. Cliff's a great guy, fun to ride with, and if I can ever get my neck problems squared away, I hope to get strong enough so we can ride at his pace.
Yesterday, Sweetie and I ran over to Lewisville and had lunch at Johnny Carino's, one of our favorite restaurants that we've really missed since moving to Allen. As we waited for our food to come, I entertained myself by looking at the evocative black and white photographs on the walls; when I tired of that, I took to watching my fellow patrons.
The really expressive guy waiting to be seated.
The blast of perfume that followed in the wake of the middle-aged, elegantly coiffed woman and made me think of the elderly ladies in their furs who sat in the pew in front of me at midnight Mass when I was a kid.
The woman at the next table with the forced, nervous-sounding laugh.
The way the ceiling was designed so that it gave the impression of being lower and more finished than the water pipes, sprinklers, and wiring conduits it distracted from but didn't cover.
My wife thinks I'm being critical, and perhaps I am; but mostly I'm just people watching, trying to glean from what I can observe the lives they lead, what they're thinking.
Maybe I should just discourage the question, "What are you looking at?"
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