A massive stroke at 44 and Kirby's gone? Great snarkies! Mean Mr. Mustard is around that age...maybe that knee is starting to look less problematic.
I don't remember seeing this anywhere other than the email Mr. Mustard sent me - but here are the details about G.W.'s bicycle crash during the G8. I think they should have fined him as a lesson for the kiddies - there's no excuse for unsafe riding.
If you intend to be at your DFL Caucus (tomorrow night, 3/7 at 7:00 p.m.) - here's a caucus finder, courtesy of The Power Liberal.
And finally - we are done with all the nasty rental house work. The place is clean. If you estimate the house at about 2500 square feet, and then just multiply by about three for walls and ceilings painted (closets and doors, so not by four), I painted a big chunk of 7500+ square feet. We purchased 15 gallons of ultra pure white paint and 2 gallons of ceiling paint to cover up soot and went through a good portion of it. 150 person hours of cleaning. Ugh. Eryn was going absolutely stir crazy by the time we left. But the renter seemed ecstatic and even a bit impressed with her new, quiet dishwasher, which is much nicer than my own.
On Sunday we told Eryn that we'd take her someplace fun to make up for 15 hours with nothing to do at the rental house, so we ended up at the Mall of America. Where we promptly bumped into my brother. In case you don't believe Minnesota is a small place, on Friday I bumped into someone from my extended business unit and he shared a table with my family over a burrito. Then on Saturday the new renter moved in, whose son plays basketball with the old renter's son and who is friends with someone who lives within a block of me. On Sunday, we saw my brother and his family at the Mall, and then I bumped into Iver from one of the groups at work I often meet with. After I introduced Iver to my family, I turned around and there was Saviz, who works a few rows away from me and will be sitting kitty corner to me after my cube move this weekend. My daughter and his daughter rode the airplane ride together. Then I came home and snuck an old, rusty sprinkler into the open back of Christy's SUV so that she'd mistakenly take it to her new house. Christy also works with me.
You'd think we all lived in Mayberry.
And, speaking of coworkers, if one of you noticed the rip in the elbow of my shirt today and didn't tell me, you officially suck. I don't wear clothes with holes in them on purpose.
2 comments:
Isn't it odd that you don't hear too much about this Kirby Puckett today?
Funny article about GW and his cycling incident. I must admit i found this story pretty amusing until i read that the poor officer GW so clumsily rammed into hit his head. And after having assisted with a nasty injury during the st. paul classic--woman missing half her face to the pavement, helmet intact--i hope the poor officer is ok.
We must not be too hard on our leader. Riding is hard. And so is math. And breathing--Breathing takes practice.
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