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Another dinner club success.
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Day 8 in confinement. No, not the Corona beer variety. Today I received a splurge delivery. Its all about the Bass and I am enjoying every moment of that darkness coating the inside pain receptors. Fun fact. In the land of the free, home of the brave; old, fat, scared…
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Mailing it in. Getting closer to regaining mobility. There’s a lot going on, yet nothing all at the same time.
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I did a dumb thing. I lifted (very) heavy without waiting for assistance. *surprisingly* I hurt myself. Bad. Walking can be such the luxury. While I did take some pictures between today and last post (Day 52), its taken me 4 days to remember to post. Pain is a nice…
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A blend of persimmon and pineapple.
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These spoiled little … damn diva’s … waiting for someone to turn on the water. Otherwise, they have no use for us …
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Not even going to try and pretend I put any thought into todays picture. I had a couple ideas that I failed to execute on. Instead, I present this pedestrian picture of grocery store fried chicken.
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Its that time of year. The temperature averages sub freezing (the Farenheit variety). My wife starts sharing her flee the cold plans. [snip]“She smelled of daisies …”“She drive me crazy …” “Gonna take her for a ride a big jet plane”[snip]
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One of my favorite beverages. Much better than that watered down beer produced nationally. Given the choice, if its not quality brew, I’ll pass. Prost!