Something About Nothing

Each year about a month or so before my husband's birthday, he starts to complain about how old he is getting. I always laugh at him. We have a video tape of our oldest daughter's first birthday party (she is now in college) in which he 'wisely' makes some sort of comment to a friend about "well, when you get to the third decade. . . ." I'm really not sure what he says after that because I am always on the floor laughing my head off. I like to tease him. When he was about to turn 40 he was complaining about how horrible it was that he was getting so old. He made these complaints to our friends who were in their early 80's. Again I laughed at him and told him to cut it out because our friends had turned 40 twice and they were doing just fine. Not long after his 40th, I had to laugh at him again when he found out he had to get bifocals, and then recently when he was told that he may even need trifocals. Poor baby. (Snicker, snicker) Of course it has al...

A number of months ago I went blog surfing and had a great time. Perhaps not as fun as water surfing (if I were in shape for it), but definately more fun than randomly surfing the internet. I started close to home at the blog of my boss, Nancy, at Whimsy Cottage and ended up half way around the world, but as the hour was late I decided it was time to come home and rest until I could find the time and energy to surf again. While on my journey I discovered many interesting things about people I have never met, as well as their families, animals and hobbies. I felt a bit like a peeping tom, or a stalker. But then I realized that I can't be a peeping tom when they are the ones exposing themselves to me and the entire internet. They are flashers, sharing little bits of their lives, and I was the happy victim. What a lovely image. Wow thats a lot of metaphors or similies or whatever it is that I forgot from English class. Anyway, as I surfed I wondered about becoming a flasher myself. E...