A Fine Sunday in August

It has been a fine day today. The weather has been just right--sunny and 70s. The grass and plants are a lush green from the recent rain. The clouds are fluffy in the distance, portending a possible light show later this evening.

I restarted a furniture refinishing project on our deck yesterday, and I am almost done sanding a little chest. Another couple of sunny days, and I will be done with staining and varnishing. My next project will be sanding and repainting a couple of cafe chairs I found abandoned on a corner, with a sign posted above declaring their "free"dom.

I have no comments on condiments lately. Perhaps I shall share a recipe for tweeking BBQ sauce, or perhaps sing the praises of sour cream. Or shall I blog on the world's most perfect food: bacon?

. . . no need to decide now. After all--it's a fine Sunday afternoon and fall is around the corner.

Fo' Shizzle

Hun and I returned on Saturday from a week-long respite in the Mile High City. It was loverly. We got to visit with friends and family, enjoy a couple of hikes, and received broad hints about how to build a fun-filled and fiscally secure future together from the afore-mentioned friends and fam. (Say that meandering sentence five times fast.) We also were force fed homemade ice cream. (The flavors were maraschino cherries with pecans, and Bing cherries with dark chocolate chunks--yum.)

Ten added pounds around the waistline later, I returned to work yesterday to discover I have now a caseload of one. (Hopefully my caseload will turn to two or--gasp--three bouncing teenage boys!!) Let the adolescent ennui begin.

All kidding aside, teenagers can be quite fun. I really like teens--they just don't seem to like me much because (1) I'm not hip, cool, or withit AT ALL, (2) I often get stuck telling them things they don't want to hear, such as "No, you aren't going home yet because the judge is being an asshole." and (3) I ask them to stop acting like teens and start acting like mini-adults because the county will kick their tuckus out of the system without a dime if they impulsively (imagine that for a teen) decide to sign themselves out of care because they aren't allowed to visit their boyfriend who is stationed in Bumfuck or the county declined to buy them an XBox 360 for their 18th birthday. I usually get a James Dean pout or Billy Idol sneer in response, attempt to encourage them to strive for bigger and better things, and shoo myself out the door before being conned out of more McDonald's outing.

I also dusted off a Pilate's DVD I got on hot-bargain special from Border's and completed a couple of workouts. Meanwhile, Hun has been playing Bioshock on his new XBox 360, and hasn't let me take a turn even once. (Insert Cyndi Lauper sneer or Paris Hilton pout here.)

Could my life get moore exciting?!

Fo' Shizzle.