|Home is the Hunter|
William S. Phillips
Now blogging-wise, Thursdays are fairly intense. On the way home from work I think about what the Friday Flyby is going to look like. Sometimes I have two weeks worth of Flybys running through the corridors of my mind. Sometimes I'm scrambling to come up with something for the after dinner blogging hour.
Not so this week, nor for the next few weeks as Juvat has planted some ideas in the old noggin, which is cool, as I used to calibrate his jet's radar (and everybody else's for that matter). So all I need to do is come up with the pictures and the text and arrange them suitably. Or something like that. Hell, this ain't rocket science, I don't get paid to do it, but DAMN it's fun.
Anyhoo, Thursday nights are hectic as I put together the next day's Flyby. Sometimes it can take four to five hours, so I kind of take Friday nights off, blogging-wise.
Sometimes I feel guilty about that.
Sometimes I don't.
All things being equal, it's nice to get up in the bright shiny AM, fire up Mr. Computer, log into the blog, hit publish, then sigh with contentment. Until I hear,
"Are you going to mow the lawn today?"
If I indicate to The Missus Herself that I was thinking about doing that on Sunday, she'll tell me it's supposed to rain. So now I'm in a quandary, do I roll the dice and wait until Sunday? Knowing full well that if the wife says it will rain on Sunday and I wait until then, it will rain. Then I'll be stuck mowing the lawn in stages after work on Monday and Tuesday.
But if I cut the grass Saturday then of course, Sunday will be beautiful.
Cutting the grass isn't all bad though, it does give me time to think. Think about the blog and what I want to post about in the near future. Sometimes though, I just let my mind go blank and follow the mower around until I realize that I'm done.
I had a dream last night that The Nuke and I were driving down a lovely tree lined road. Nicely paved and gently winding through some lovely country. In each tree was a sleeping raccoon. (?!?!?)
(Damn Jedi-raccoon mind tricks.)
No more Italian sausage for dinner methinks. The Nuke thinks I should see a specialist...
Oh look! An aircraft carrier!
Hhhmm, maybe this is why I don't write Saturday posts on Friday night...