Take me home

Another succesful round-trip to Fort Wayne to drop mom off. We stayed a couple of days. Vicki & Ev (mom) were looking at throws for the chair in the living room and suddenly stumbled across... well, inspiration for, a new bedspread and curtains in Mom's bedroom.

We ended up returning the original bedspread at SteinMart -- we found one that worked much better at Linens and Things.

I ended up getting 6 shirts for $50 at JC Penny -- they were getting rid of their summer stock at 70% off. So that was cool.

Mom's petunia didn't make it sitting in the bucket in the sink. Too much water. I expected yellowing leaves, but they were dead and dried even though the roots were soaked. Too soaked. I got some more purple ones and made a new hanging basket for her. I couldn've gotten her prettier red ones (a much fuller plant) had I been aware that purple was not that important. I think I got the last purple petunias in town.

Also picked up Garrison Keillor's "Lake Wobegon Summer 1956" for $5 after reading the back of it. It sounded hilarious. It was. I read it.

It also turns out we had a copy of it at home we'd bought used somewhere and I'd never picked it up. Mark will love it. It's another coming-of-age story, this time it's a 14 year old toady-looking geeky boy who has a minor crush on his older cousin. Unpopular son in a family of Sanctified Brethren, struggling with the guilt and fascination of his discovery of sexuality, pride in his talents, etc.

The back reads like this:

I am stunned. I had no idea. God. A TYPEWRITER. The enormity of this gift is truly staggering; it's as if he gave me the keys to a new car. I promise myself that I will never think snotty things about Uncle Sugar's hair and his balloon butt ever again. I have lusted for a typewriter for so long. Grandpa is looking out the window of heaven, and Jesus is standing beside him. Grandpa says, "Jesus, why did you give an Underwood typewriter to a boy who thinks dirty thoughts all the time?" Jesus says, "Well, we'll see what he does with it."

Having been a 14 year old boy myself and a relatively religous upbringing, a mercilessly teased geek who was never popular with the girls... this book struck home pretty well. It's good to be able too look back and laugh. Hard. The way he meanders between fantasy and reality reminds me all too much of what it was like to be 14. (This book was about as funny as "Kick Me" by Paul Feig - equally a little too close to the truth behind my young teenage years). This man is a torch bearer for a lost art - the art of storytelling.

I got a dashboard hula girl and stuck her in the back window of my car with my University of Magraritaville window sticker. It'll go well with the Buffett and Beach Boys you'll often hear in my car.



Cheaply put together. The skirt was held on by hot glue. Which, in the sun, released its hold. At least she had bikini bottoms on. I sewed the skirt on at the waist. She won't be droppin' that again.

The college boys next door moved out today. Hope we get some friendlier neighbors.

I'm smoking some chicken on the Big Green Egg... ought to be ready soon.