Dog fails as a food critic
The dog would never make it as a food critic. Everything I eat is “good” in his view of the world. This evening; canned beans and beef. He approved. I really should go out for groceries, but it’s dark and I’m lazy. Tomorrow evening.
Trying to get through a pile of older laptops at work, in anticipation of the recuperation truck showing up. Reformat, test, decide if the machine can tough it through another year. These are not new machines; often, we keep machines going for so long that the owners are ecstatic when they finally rise on the list for something newer. Not how the manufacturers want things to go, but we live in a world of budget restraint.
I noticed that a series of signs at work have disappeared. The kind of signs that point the way to specific offices. A security measure, I’ve been told. Wish we would get the whole story, and not have to guess based on ‘the evidence”. Should I be paranoid?
Not sure why I happened to see the ad, but it seems that I could (if I wanted to and had a lot of extra cash) purchase a travel tuba. Fits into an airplane overhead bin, and almost hits low notes. Until now, I had never felt the need; it’s starting to gnaw at my soul.
And finally, one more reason to learn to speak Gaelic. A song. With actions. Here, check out the YouTube video. Summer camp will never be the same, after that.
