Like them, appreciate them, adore them for their ability to wade in there and … fix stuff. I like them for all those qualities and more, although sometimes they exasperate me, and I have been exposed to slightly more than my statistical fair share of total male fahrk-quads. Twenty years in the military will do that to you. At best, it’s an 85% plus male-dominated profession, and one is guaranteed to observe them in their masculine glory and also at their absolute piggish worst. But on the whole, I like men when they shoulder responsibility, when they are stand-up great co-workers, when they are good in bed and fantastic with amusing children, when they come to your physical and emotional rescue which they will do and when they give those perfectly thoughtful and slightly skewed gifts. From one long-time Significant Other, I got a birthday-Christmas present of two pallets of bricks. Yes, but it was what I really-oh-truly-oh-really wanted and I had said so. Dad once gave me a metal tool-box as a Christmas present, for pretty much the same reason.
Deep Thoughts
Cheesy Goodness
After following all the directions given for making cheeses last fall, to include covering the various wheels with wax we stashed the results on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator to age.
Urban Cow, In Concealment
Be vewy, vewy quiet … you never know when a cow will be watching…
Deep Thought
After inadvertently stopping up the kitchen sink, and then going to a lot of effort, ultimately successful, to unstop it, I feel satisfaction and accomplishment as though I had done a good day’s work. I will sleep well. But it’s all an illusion since I have merely undone an annoying situation that I created myself by my own boneheadedness. Nothing was really accomplished. However, if I did something boneheaded out in the desert or wherever and almost got killed but escaped by the skin of my teeth it might be called a great adventure. Does this mean that context is everything, that adventure is overrated or that I am overthinking this?