A Day in a Year in a Life / Day 165

14/June/2014, Day 165.  Saturday.

PAA is having .... uh, "issues" at the moment, so I will be posting the daily "A Day in a Year in a Life" articles here until it cleans up its act.

The theme for today was shopping, shopping, shopping, and more shopping!

After a slow start, (puttering away in our underwear eating a lazy breakfast), we finally got our act together and drove over to Forsyth, GA, to the Grits Café for lunch. Lunch was okay - it was good and all, but the menu was one we considered uninspired, as nearly everything had shrimp, (which Sweetie is allergic to), or blue cheese, (which Grump despises!), in it. So it was probably one of the least exciting meals we've had at Grits Café. Still good, but not the usual superb.

After lunch we drove up the road to the Tanger outlet mall in Locust Grove, GA. There are many, many stores there, and Sweetie went wild! We shopped until Grump and Kuya just couldn't take it anymore. It was dinnertime by then, so we drove back down the road to The French Market to get something to eat.

We had never been to The French Market before, and were pleasantly surprised by how good the food was. It is a New Orleans / Cajun style inspired place; Grump had yummy gumbo, jambalaya, and red rice and beans. Sweetie had a blackened salmon which was super-duper mouth-watering delicious.  Kuya and Sweetie finished off their meal with a yummy miniature chocolate cake.

Sufficiently stuffed, and tired, we drove back home and as quick as we could all four of us climbed into bed.  In no time at all we were all snoring contentedly.

A Day in a Year in a LIfe / Day 166

15/June/2014, Day 166.  Sunday.

This was a bummer of a day.

It started out okay.  Sweetie, Grump, and Dodong accompanied Kuya to the church where he went to vacation Bible school last week, and Kuya participated in a singing presentation all the VBS kids gave up on the stage at the front of the church.

From there everything went downhill.  Grump was very sleepy, so when he got home he insisted on taking a nap.  Unfortunately Sweetie also decided to try to make a fancy recipe for Father's Day, namely salmon croquettes with spaghetti squash mixed with a celery pesto sauce.  As she attempted to make the recipe, she realized that she needed a food processor, (!), to successfully complete it, so she and Kuya headed off to a local department store while a very tired Grump stayed home with Dodong.

Once Sweetie got back home, Grump handed Dodong off to her and went upstairs to sleep.  After about 15 minutes Sweetie started hollering for him, asking him to come help her with the food processor.  Grump was in no mood to mess with a food processor, so he told her that if she really wanted him to fuss with it, he would, but if he couldn't get it to work he was taking it back to the store.

I'll just jump to the end of this pathetic story.  Sure enough, we couldn't figure out how to get the food processor to work, so we took it back to the store, and got another, less exciting model.  At first we couldn't get this one to work either, but once Grump read the instructions he finally figured it out.

The sad part to all this is that the food processor we returned was a much better model, and was on sale at a considerable discount, being only a little more than a dollar than the lesser model.  If either Grump or Sweetie had taken the time to read the instructions for it, we probably would have figured out how to use it.

There's a moral buried in there somewhere.

Where are all the posts, Dude?

Yeah, yeah ..... I've done an absolutely CRUDDY job keeping this blog updated.  So what do you want?  Your money back?

I had this goofy idea of taking Swift's "A Tale of a Tub", obtained from the good folks at Project Gutenberg, and rewriting it from the point of view of a group of angry cormorants.  Yes, that's the best I could come up with, okay!

YOU try raising a newborn and a five year old simultaneously.

Drama!

So .... has "The Bubble" stabilized now, and will redemptions actually be received by those requesting them?

Will FoK lose yet another male editor?

Stay tuned, boy and girls, as answers to these and other questions become resolved by our team of experts!

An Experiment!

As lightening flashes across a tormented sky, I cackle with glee and invite you, my dear friends, into my laboratory, where we will all witness my latest experiment: an embedded video!




IT'S ALIVE!!  IT'S ALIVE!!!

Beauty, Truth, and Incoherent Commentary - Verse 03

Let's keep picking on Mr. Milton, shall we?  After all, although I never met the man, based on his reputation he could "lighten up" a little.

What poem should we peruse today?  How about this one:

On His Deceased Wife        by John Milton

METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused Saint
   Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
   Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,
   Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint,
   Purification in the old Law did save,
   And such, as yet once more I trust to have
   Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
   Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
   Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd 
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
   But O as to embrace me she enclin'd
   I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.

Okay .... if you read this poem through, then I hope you have a new appreciation for Mr. Milton.  What a beautiful, heart-wrenching dedication to a lost lover!  John, you old Puritan, I didn't know you had it in you.

Beauty, Truth, and Incoherent Commentary - Verse 02

I've already begun insulting the memory of John Milton, so I may as well continue.  I'll copy here the few sonnets of his I understand, as Latin is a mystery to me.  (It may as well be Greek!)

On His Being Arrived to the Age of Twenty-three    by John Milton

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,

Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!

My hasting days fly on with full career,

But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.

Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,

That I to manhood am arrived so near,

And inward ripeness doth much less appear,

That some more timely-happy spirits indu'th.

Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

It shall be still in strictest measure even

To that same lot, however mean or high,

Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven.

All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great Task-master's eye.

Whining about being 24 years old?  Good Lord, man!  What until you're my age, and every body part hurts and malfunctions, you fart dust, your eyes, ears, nose, and tongue can't sense much of anything any more, and to walk up a flight of stairs requires all your energy!

Oh to be back in my 40's again!