It’s A Beautiful—snort!—Morning

Not a cloud in the—achoo!—sky, just a light breeze here at The 1912 House. I took care of a little gardening—sniffle!—yesterday and the yards look lovely. I just hope that they won’t appear ragged for Easter weekend. The folks are coming, as are the—slurp!—various familial refugees who just want to—honk!—stay in town and have a quiet dinner.

I think we’ll even attend—snkxxx!—Mass at our local historic mission in the morning (despite my eschewing the—hoot!—whole “bells and smells” thing), followed up by an egg hunt that will end up—achoo!—being a timed event (by our hungry and energetic dogs).

At this moment, I’m just waiting for the—wheeze!—phone call to start work, so I’ll bide my time by finishing up—ah-ah-ah-achoo!—some of the projects I’ve allowed to linger. That, and I’ll be getting—sniff!—angry whenever anybody mentions “quagmire.” You’re—achoo!—welcome.

This post was brought to you by—schnarfuffle!—Benadryl-D.

Your pal,

bob

UPDATE: I’ve added a link to the “quagmire” reference that will lead you to another thoughtful Den Beste tract. You could do much worse than to follow it (and read the rest of his writing). -bob