Take Out the Trash Day

Everything changes. Nothing remains the same. The Flashback Friday feature is on life support. Existing In BFE will keep going, but with less posts. We ditched Mondays a while back and now we eliminate the Friday posts. Not entirely. Friday is going to become our "Take Out the Trash Day". That refers to Episode 13 of Season One of West Wing where the White House disposes of all the stories they don't want heavy coverage on. It has nothing to do with politics - my bent or yours - its simply a twisted metaphor. You know what a twisted metaphor is, don'cha? You just put your lips together and blow. Oh wait, that's something entirely different. Sometimes I feel like I'm on a runaway train. Man, I loved that movie. "I thought ya liked me, Manny?"

If we come up with a photo or something the editorial staff feels is worthy of mention, then we'll post it. We'll have a mish-mash of things today or maybe nothing at all. After several years of opening the family photo albums we have pretty much exhausted them.

So, readers, buck up and endeavor to persevere. Even half a Tanner's Orchard cider donut beats no donut at all. Here's to you Rosita. So happy you are one of the crew - but you can't hold back on juicy gossip. Rule 23 in the Retiree Handbook: Holding back on juicy gossip is strictly prohibited.

By the way, that is Ayla in the picture. We had just had science lab at Papa's Daycare to study if cardboard was a suitable replacement for cookies and ice cream. The results were fairly clear.

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Summer Swim

It's Monday and the start of another work week. Except for me. I have the week off because the parents of my daycare charges are taking the week off, too. This is one of those wordless posts I love on Mondays so I can put my laziness in full view of loyal readers. These pics need no words. Why muddy the waters? They were taken at the pool at Sinkhole Estates aka Death Valley. The nice thing about this pool is it is heated in winter. If one must find positives in one's situation, I suppose that is one. But, please, no more.

Flashback Friday

Class, Or Lack Thereof The Dwight Vice gravestone in Oquawka, Illinois. I bring this old chestnut out every so often just to remind me that class is classless. Dwight Vice was killed in his home near Oquawka in 2001. It was one of those things that can generate crime: two guys thought Dwight had a lot of money stashed at home because of his pot-selling sideline to supplement his fishing job. Not really one of those big drug deals gone-bad things. Marijuana was, according to the trial, about the only stuff Dwight sold. But these two guys barge into the house and killed Dwight and attempted to kill his 11 year old kid, Darryl, before they took off with what money they could find. His son, now 23, was stabbed in the back and left for dead. He survived and is wheelchair bound and has undergone several surgeries to repair his wounds. He will be paralyzed for life. None of this is pleasant. Reading the facts of the murder and attempted murder are most unpleasant

Re-opening Was A Hoax

Existing In BFE

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